
m 






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap.TZ^ Copyright No._ 

. ShelLJAkk^ E ' 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






















- 
































. 




















How would you like to be the editor of The Danford, Citizen ?” 

See page 7. 






3 


Elijah Tone, Citizen. 


SI Storg of Christian Cttijcnsfjip. 



AMOS R. WELLS, 

u 1 

AUTHOR OF “FOREMAN JENNIE,” ETC. 


“ £ fjabe Written unto gou, goung men, because ge are strong.” 




BOSTON AND CHICAGO: 

The United Society of Christian Endeavor. 
1897. 

c 





\ 


Copyright, 1896, 
By Amos R. Wells. 


Copyright, 1897, 

By The United Society of Christian Endeavor. 


C. J. PETERS & SON, TYPOGRAPHERS, BOSTON. 


F. H. GILSON COMPANY, PRINTERS. 





PREFACE. 


This tale originally appeared as a serial in The 
Golden Rule. During its publication I received a 
large number of letters from young men in widely 
separated portions of the country, telling me how 
accurately the story pictured the condition of their 
own towns, and also, in cases not a few, detailing 
the noble efforts toward civic redemption made 
by the young men of their communities. So I 
have come to believe most heartily in my hero, 
Elijah Tone, — not only because most features of 
his story are drawn from personal observation, but 
also because innumerable Elijah Tones seem ready 
to spring up in our many Danfords. Grit and 
grace to you, young men! This dear country 
deserves all the manhood we can give her, all the 
courage, all the unselfish devotion. Let no man 
count his Christianity complete until he becomes 
a Christian citizen. 

iii 





CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. A Lawn-mower, a Poem, and a Proposition . i 

II. “Stacked”. 12 

III. Organizing Victory out of Defeat .... 22 

IV. The Bee has a Red-hot Sting.32 

V. Elijah’s Thoughts take a New Turn ... 42 

VI. P. T. gets into Trouble.52 

VII. The Case of Teddy Mason.62 

VIII. A Very Efficient Marshal.. . 72 

IX. Elder Jarvis has Trouble in His Church . 80 

X. The Young Folks don’t Propose to be Left 

Out.89 

XI. Elijah makes His Mark in Chalk .... 102 

XII. A Matter of Life or Death.113 

XIII. Elijah Interviews the School Board . . . 123 

XIV. In which Several Discoveries are Made . 131 

XV. Caspar Griffith is Wanted.138 

XVI. A Bit of Detective Work.148 

XVII. A Pitched Battle.159 

XVIII. Ben Makes Two Announcements.168 


v 













CONTENTS. 


vi 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XIX. Mr. Hackerman in His True Colors , . . 178 

XX. The Citizen and the Emergency .... 186 

XXI. The Day of Freemen and of Slaves . . . 196 

XXII. At His Post. 205 

XXIII. The End — which is only the Beginning. . 215 



ELIJAH TONE, CITIZEN. 


CHAPTER I. 

S 

a laWn-mower, a poem, and a proposition. 

I always like to have some notion of what 
I am going to eat before I begin my dinner. 
Maybe other folks are like me; and so I will say 
at the outset that this is going to be the story of 
a young man who was very absurdly put together. 
He actually thought that his duty to his town was 
not done when he used its schools and post-office, 
walked on its sidewalks, and grumbled at its 
wretched officers and accursed saloons. He really 
set to work, in his own original way, to put things 
in better shape. The story is going to relate the 
predicaments in which our hero found himself be¬ 
cause of this meddlesome interference with things 
as they were, and will give a veracious account of 
how he got out of his difficulties, — if he got out 
of them at all. 

Now, if you like that kind of story, this is just 
the kind of story you will like; and if you don’t 


i 



2 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


enjoy that sort of thing, the less you read of the 
following chapters, the better you and I will get 
along. 

And finally, — for I abhor a tedious introduction, 
— this is a story for all voters, and for all that 
expect to be voters some day. Let no one say, 
therefore, that this is merely a story for masculine 
readers! 

The young man who passed through the adven¬ 
tures I am about to relate, was running a mower 
over his front lawn one warm day in July. His 
name was Elijah Tone, he was just past his 
twenty-first birthday, and he had black hair. 
Those are as many facts about him as you can 
expect to remember at one time. 

Now, it is not the most amusing thing in the 
world to run a lawn-mower under any circum¬ 
stances, least of all on a warm July day, and when 
the turf has got a good start of one. 

“Too bad the grass is so long,” brightly sung 
out Florence Tone, as, in fresh, light dress, she 
left the house to give a music-lesson. 

“ Can’t help it, sis. A fellow can’t graduate 
from college and run a lawn-mower the same fort¬ 
night.” 

“ But you should have let us get a man to cut it.” 

For answer, Elijah only laughed. Everybody in 
town knew that he never let any one else do the 
work that belonged to him. 


A LAWN-MOWER AND A PROPOSITION 3 


Florence shut the gate behind her with a smart 
little click, and Elijah’s mower pushed on through 
the matted grass, chewing it off as best it could, 
and often getting so clogged as to require a halt 
and a fresh start. Notwithstanding this, and not¬ 
withstanding the hot sun that poured down through 
the openings in the overhanging elnjs, you could 
see by the far-away look in his eyes that the young 
man’s thoughts were not on his difficult task. 

Do you believe it possible to run a lawn-mower 
and write poetry at the same time ? At any rate, 
that is just what Elijah was doing. Let us peep 
over his shoulder as he stops his clattering ma¬ 
chine for an instant, takes a blank book from his 
pocket, and begins to scribble. It is in shorthand, 
but I can translate it for you : — 

FAME. 

' Fame is the mint-mark stamped upon our gold, 

Sign manual of the ages to our worth, 

That sends brave souls to noble toiling forth, 

For struggles, fears, and fightings manifold. 

Fame is that mystic talisman of old 
Which — 


But here Elijah evidently sticks, being tempo¬ 
rarily at a loss for another rhyme to “worth.” 

Crude, stilted, and artificial ? Certainly. But 
Elijah’s own heart is fired by his poem, and there 
shines in his eye the light of that same heroism 
whereof he is happily writing. And really, crude 


4 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


as it is, I would rather be the author of that son¬ 
net which he is hammering out with the aid of his 
lawn-mower, than of the scores of malarial novels 
over which the world has gone daft these recent 
years. 

But Elijah was not allowed much longer thus 
to combine poetry and lawn-mowing that summer 
afternoon. As our rhymester put his sonnet back 
into his pocket with a sigh, an appropriate mate 
for his “ worth ” still undiscovered, he heard the 
gate open cautiously, and saw a stranger standing 
half inside, while he asked, “ Does Elijah Tone 
live here ? ” 

“ I am Elijah Tone.” 

“ Well, then, guess I might’s well come in, eh ? ” 
said the stranger, in a squeaky voice that went 
well with his short, dapper body, his snapping 
black eyes, and his fringe of black whiskers, which 
stuck bushily out all around his shaven chin. 

“ Certainly. Walk in,” said Elijah politely, lead¬ 
ing the way to a rustic seat that stood by the ten¬ 
nis-ground at one side of the roomy yard. 

“ Nice place y’ have here,” ventured the black- 
eyed man with a comprehensive glance around ; 
and then, without waiting for an answer, he jerked 
out: — 

“Tell you who I am. I am Saunders Hacker- 
man, the newspaper man. I ’m in the newspaper 
business. Folks call me the Great Starter, be- 


A LAWN-MOWER AND A PROPOSITION 5 

cause I have started more newspapers than any 
other man in the country. And I guess I have. 
Proud of it. Eh?” 

“ I am glad to see you, Mr. Hack-began 

Elijah, but he was cut short by his impetuous 
visitor. 

“My card. And a letter of introduction.” 

This was the card : — 




Secretary of the Village Press Syndicate. 


The letter of introduction was from an old friend 
of Elijah’s father, a man of wealth and character 
in a neighboring town, and simply said that the 
writer was financially interested in the matter Mr. 
Hackerman had to present, and believed that it 
offered a good opening for a young man of Eli¬ 
jah’s tastes, provided he had not already found 
occupation. 

“ You see, it’s just this,” said Saunders Hacker¬ 
man, as soon as Elijah, having finished reading, 
turned to him with manifest interest and expec¬ 
tation ; “ I ’ve a big thing on hand. There is no 




6 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


town paper in Spring Valley. There is no town 
paper in Rockford. There is none in Brarfchville. 
There are only two in Milton, and a county-seat 
could stand three. Now my plan is to set up a 
paper in Milton that will do for all these surround¬ 
ing towns. See ? Great scheme.” 

“ But I don’t quite see,” said Elijah. 

“ Why, it’s this way. There ’s Tom Walters, — 
know Tom ? Well, never mind; — Tom Walters, 
over in Spring Valley, he ’s going to be the editor 
of The Spring Valley Times. He will run a job 
printing-office there, and get the local news, and 
set it up, and ship the type to me at Milton, say 
two columns a week. In the same way there will 
be The Barton Breeze and The Rockford Eagle 
and The Branchville Sentinel and The Milton Mon¬ 
itor. They will all be printed by me in Milton, 
and they will all be the same paper with different 
heads on and the matter put in different positions. 
See?” 

“ But would n’t that be a sort of humbug ? ” 
bluntly asked Elijah, who was not accustomed to 
mince things. 

“ Not at all. The people of Barton would get 
their own news, all there is of it, and in addition 
the news of all the other towns in the county; 
don’t you see ? ” 

Yes, Elijah saw. 

“It ’s just a method of editorial co-operation, 


A LAWN-MOWER AND A PROPOSITION 7 

you see. Eh ? A great literary combine. It ’s 
a labor-saving machine. And the beauty of it is 
that each community gets a better paper than it 
would without such a combine. See ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. I think it might work.” 

“Well, then.” And here Mr. Hackerman 
slapped Elijah on the knee. “ How would you 
like to be the editor of the The Danford Citizen ?” 

“The editor /” With what a marvellously 
pleasant sound did that word fall on Elijah’s ears ! 
As far back as he could remember, literature had 
been his passion. Scarcely a journal of repute in 
the country but had received one or more of his 
neat typewritten manuscripts, in prose or verse. 
Scarcely a journal in the country of whose printed 
form of editorial rejection Elijah had not a speci¬ 
men, preserved in a certain box “ to keep him 
humble.” An occasional acceptance, and a kind 
word or helpful criticism now and then from some 
editor with a heart and a few minutes to spare, 
had kept up his enthusiasm in spite of all his fail¬ 
ures, so that there was no young man in Danford 
to whom Mr. Hackerman’s proposition would have 
been more alluring. 

But Elijah looked on both sides of everything. 

“Why, Mr. Hackerman,” said he, “we already 
have a paper here in Danford.” 

“ But such a paper ! ” exclaimed that gentleman, 
in a tone of supreme contempt, at the same time 


8 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


drawing from his pocket a copy of The Danford 
Bee. 

“I know it is an abominable sheet,” Elijah made 
haste to say. 

“ Abominable ? I should think so. Listen to 
this : 4 Mrs. Bill Malony ’ (who, I understand, is 
the keeper of one of your worst saloons? Yes? 
Thought so.) ‘ Mrs. Bill Malony entertained at 
her house last night two dozen of the elite of Dan- 
ford with her usual charming hospitality assisted 
by the Misses Bill Malony in cream-colored silk.’ ” 

Elijah nodded his head. “ Yes, that is from The 
Danford Bee. No doubt about it.” 

“ Or this,” continued Mr. Hackerman. “ ‘ Our 
esteemed fellow-citizen, Karl Fainstein, put up a 
little too much on the favorite at the county fair 
last Saturday and had to shove up his watch to 
get home so we are informed. Better luck next 
trip Karl.’ ” 

“ Shameful, is n’t it ? ” was Elijah’s comment. 

“ Or this,” persisted Mr. Hackerman. “ ‘ The 
beautiful and petite daughters of Mike Calahan 
went to Milton last Friday, and to judge from the 
bundles they brought home with them Mike’s 
purse must have felt as if a cyclone had struck 
it.’ ” 

“ Every one despises The Beef said Elijah. “ It 
is a disgrace to the town. Its editor is on the side 
of all that is low and degrading in the place, and 


A LAWN-MOWER AND A PROPOSITION 9 

gets his support from the very worst element. 
But we have stood it so long that we take it as a 
matter of course.” 

“ But it is n’t a matter of course,” urged Mr. 
Hackerman, his black eyes sparkling; “and don’t 
you think all the decent people in town would 
rally around The Danford Citizen , and around Mr. 
Elijah Tone, its editor ?” 

“Yes, I really think that Danford would be 
glad to support a respectable paper,” admitted 
Elijah ; “ but I don’t see how I could edit it. You 
see, Mr. Hackerman, I have just graduated from 
our college here, and I have n’t got into any regu¬ 
lar business yet; but I have taken the teachers’ 
examinations, and got a good certificate, and I am 
looking around for a position in the public schools. 
I think I even have a chance at the superinten¬ 
dency of our Danford schools.” 

“ Never mind. Never mind,” briskly answered 
he of the black eyes. “ You try it for the sum¬ 
mer, and then if you get your school you can drop 
the paper, you know, or we can get some one else 
to run the job department, while you turn out the 
copy of evenings. Do it in odd minutes, you 
know. Eh ? ” 

“ And that job-work is another thing,” went on 
Elijah stoutly, though he was almost persuaded. 
“You see, I don’t know anything about printing 
except what I picked up when a small boy work- 


10 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


ing with a little toy press of mine. It would be 
absurd for me to try to run a printing-office.” 

“ Nothing about it that a graduate of Colestone 
College could n’t learn in a week,” snapped out 
Mr. Hackerman. “ But I have thought of that 
part of it, too. Got a practical printer already 
engaged for you. Trained in the printing depart¬ 
ment of the Milton Orphans’ Home. Be here at 
an hour’s notice. Come now. Eh ? ” 

Well, thefe is no need of giving you the rest of 
the conversation. You may be sure what the re¬ 
sult would be. Visions of poems ranked in neatly 
ordered lines flitted through Elijah’s head; visions, 
too, of dainty little essays that would go from 
Maine to California credited to “ the brilliant and 
versatile editor of The Danford Citizen .” Best of 
all, a delectable vision of himself sitting at a spa¬ 
cious desk, calmly rejecting and accepting manu¬ 
scripts at his will. He himself would send out 
rejection blanks ! But they would be very kind 
ones. 

Such thoughts danced through his head while he 
listened to Saunders Hackerman’s closely clipped 
sentences ; and it did not require much argument 
from that worthy to gain from Elijah a definite 
promise to enter upon the task as soon as Mr. 
Hackerman could rent a suitable office and fit it 
up. The Village Press Syndicate needed only 
Danford to make its circle complete, and the first 


A LAWN-MOWER AND A PROPOSITION II 

paper was to be issued, on the co-operative plan, 
within a few days. Elijah’s eyes shone. This 
was business. 

As “ the Great Starter ” passed out of the gate, 
Florence Tone came in, returning from her music- 
lesson. 

She looked curiously at the black-eyed little 
man. “Who is he?” she asked. And then Elijah 
drew her to the seat that Mr. Hackerman had just 
vacated, and with eager voice told her the whole 
wonderful story. 

When he got through, Florence inquired, “ But 
what are you to get for all this, Elijah ? ” 

Our hero slapped his knee and gave a low 
whistle. “ Well, if that is n’t just like me ! ” he 
exclaimed ; “ I never thought to ask ! ” 


12 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


CHAPTER II. 

“ STACKED.” 

When Elijah came to talk over his new plans 
with his mother and father, he met, as he knew 
he would, but slight opposition. Indeed, they had 
been accustomed for many years to letting their 
dutiful but self-reliant boy do about as he pleased. 

“ I am afraid, Elijah, you will make some ene¬ 
mies,” feebly said Mrs. Tone from her pillowed 
rocking-chair, in which, with her pale-blue wrapper, 
she spent much of her semi-invalid life. “ I shall 
worry all the time for fear that horrid Caspar Grif¬ 
fith will do something to you.” 

“ Don’t be afraid of the editor of The Bee , 
mother,” cheerily said Elijah. “ He buzzes a 
great deal, but he has lost his sting, — if he ever 
had any.” 

“ Well, of course, Elijah, it will be nice to have 
a decent paper, that is n’t filled up with the 
O’Learys and the Fainsteins ; but do be careful, 
and don’t say anything that will offend any one.” 

Elijah’s interview with his father was different. 

Mr. Tone was an elegant gentleman, who, in 


stacked: 


13 


the early part of his business career, made an in¬ 
vestment in railroad stock so fortunate that he 
immediately retired from active life, to devote him¬ 
self for the rest of his days to his meerschaum 
pipe and his slippers. To be sure, the dividends 
had wofully decreased of recent years, and they 
had had all they could do to maintain Elijah even 
at the cheap little Colestone College right there in 
town, and Elijah had been compelled to stay out 
of college one year and teach district school, while 
Florence eked out the family funds with her mu¬ 
sic-lessons ; but then, here was Elijah grown up 
a young man, and he would soon restore the 
shrunken dividends to their former fat propor¬ 
tions. On the strength of this, Mr. Tone indulged 
in a box of especially expensive cigars. 

Naturally, when Elijah unfolded his editorial 
prospects, Mr. Tone’s first query was, “ What are 
you going to get for it ? ” 

•“Oh, Mr. Hackerman will make that all right,” 
answered Elijah lightly. 

“ But this is an uncertainty, and your school is 
a sure thing, — as sure as the taxes, and they are 
mighty sure,” said Mr. Tone, with a faint smile at 
his own pleasantry. 

“ I do not give up my school,” Elijah went on 
to explain ; reminding his father, besides, that his 
gaining a school appointment was still uncertain. 

“Well, anyway,” pettishly declared Mr. Tone, 


14 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


after a few minutes of argument, “ I don’t see 
why you can’t let well enough alone. What dif¬ 
ference does it make to you, after all, what sort of 
a town paper we have ? ” 

“ Casper Griffith’s paper, father, does infinite 
harm. It lowers the whole tone of our village 
life. It fills the minds of all the young people 
with gossip and vile slanders. It gives counte¬ 
nance to the saloon-keepers and toughs, and it 
helps to keep in office a set of men who are the 
disgrace of the community.” 

“Well, all that does n’t hurt you, does it ? ” 

“Why, yes, sir. As a citizen of the town, I 
think that anything that hurts the town hurts me. 
I am only a young man, to be sure, but I know 
how to use my pen, and I can get up a paper that 
a Christian family need not be ashamed to take. 
I think it is every one’s duty to do what he can 
to make his own town better.” 

“ Duty fiddlesticks! If every one attended to 
his own business, the world would get on well 
enough, I guess.” 

After this petulant remark Elijah saw it was use¬ 
less to pursue the conversation further. There 
was true love between father and son, but on such 
matters as this they were as far apart as the north 
from the south. 

Our would-be editor got, on the whole, more 
comfort from his sister than from any one else. 


STACKED 


15 


‘‘It ’s a splendid chance, bub, dear, to wriggle 
your pen to some account. If you can reform 
The Bee , — or cut off its head, — the whole town 
will rise up and call you blessed.” 

“All but Karl Fainstein and a few others,” in¬ 
terrupted Elijah. 

“Yes, all but the loafers and the drunkards. 
But, Elijah ! I don’t like the looks of Mr. Saun¬ 
ders Hackerman one bit.” 

“He is n’t prepossessing, I agree ; but he is 
evidently a good business man, and he wants the 
paper to appeal to the respectable people, and he 
will remain in Milton, anyway, and let me run 
things here as I please; so it does n’t much mat¬ 
ter about him, Flo.” 

“ Oh, and Elijah, you will let me help fix up the 
office, won’t you ? I ’d dearly love to.” 

Florence had her wish within a very few days; 
for, with a promptness that proved him to possess 
at least one element of a good business man, Mr. 
Hackerman sent at once to Danford, in Elijah’s 
care, an imposing array of boxes, which were 
straightway deposited in the little empty room 
which was to serve The Danford Citizen as com¬ 
posing-room, pressroom, mailing-room, and editorial 
sanctum all in one. 

It was a one-story, one-room building, that stood 
by itself a short distance from the main street, yet 
near enough to be accessible if any farmer wanted 


1 6 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 

to trade a barrel of apples for a subscription, or 
any tradesman wanted a new handbill. Its one 
room was well lighted, having served in former 
years as a barber-shop. Florence had swept it out 
and washed the windows and cleaned the sooty 
walls as best she could the day before the boxes 
arrived; and you may be sure she was on hand to 
watch them opened, for this brother and sister did 
not propose to let their lives drift apart on cur¬ 
rents of diverse interests. 

The first box unpacked contained the press — 
a brand-new affair, of a size large enough for or¬ 
dinary job-work. How it shone in the morning 
sun, with its fresh green paint and its brightly 
polished steel! Florence put her foot upon the 
treadle, and was delighted to see how smoothly 
the rollers glided over the ink-plate and down 
where the type would be, and how the platen 
moved rhythmically up just as the rollers got out 
of the way. 

“ Let ’s hurry,” she cried, “ and get out the ink 
and set up some type and put it to work! Oh, 
I can hardly wait! ” 

Elijah laughed at her enthusiasm, and attacked 
the next box with a vim which showed that he 
himself was no less eager. 

In this box were the type-cases, and dozens of 
strongly made little boxes, heavy with the wonder¬ 
ful bits of lead that were to make The Danford 


STACKED: 


Citizen a name of power. The main type was “ long 
primer,” bright and clear-cut, just from the foun¬ 
dry, though of course there was some “ brevier,” 
and even “agate.” Besides, there was a most in¬ 
teresting assortment of fancy type and other type 
for job-work, with borders, and “ornaments,” and 
“rules,” and “leads,” and all the many bewilder¬ 
ing little sticks of metal that go to stock a first- 
class printing-office. While Elijah set up, by the 
side of the largest window, the frame for the type- 
cases, Florence was busied emptying the “ sorts ” 
or bundles of different letters into their proper 
compartments of the type-cases. It was fascinat¬ 
ing work, even if it did dirty her fingers. 

They were so busy that neither of them noticed 
a head stuck in at the open window — a curly 
brown head, with merry eyes, and a mouth that, 
when you knew Ben Jarvis, seemed always seeking 
an excuse for a smile. 

“ Bees, anyway, if you are not The Danford 
Bee ! ” 

“Why, Ben !” cried Elijah, dropping his screw¬ 
driver; and, “Why, Mr. Jarvis!” cried Florence, 
“ pieing ” a whole handful of letters. “ When did 
you get home ?” “ How glad we are to see you! ” 

“ How does it feel to be a Yale B.A. ? ” 

“ I am glad to see yon , and I got home last night 
at midnight, and I bear up under the B.A. as well 
as could be expected, and I can answer six ques¬ 
tions at once as well as three.” 


i8 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


With this, Ben jumped easily through the win¬ 
dow, and shook hands heartily with his old cronies. 

“ They told me I would find you here; but this 
is the last place in the world where I should have 
looked for you — especially you” said Ben, turning 
to Florence. 

“ Why not ?” spoke up that young lady defiantly. 

“Oh, no reason at all,” Ben hastened to add, 
“ now I see what a typographical paradise you are 
making here. But is n’t this a queer move, old 
fellow ? Do you expect to smoke out The Bee ? 
Take care, or it will sting you out. I hear that our 
worthy friend Griffith is fighting mad.” 

“Well, let him be,” said Elijah, stoutly. “If he 
had turned out a respectable paper, he would have 
had no opposition.” 

“You see, Mr. Jarvis,” said Florence earnestly, 
“we are really civic reformers, — or hoping to be. 
Why, Elijah does n’t even know whether he is to 
get a cent out of it, nor does he much care. But 
he wants to do something to elevate the life of this 
town.” 

“What ’s the use,” said Elijah, taking up the 
argument, “for you and me to have a college train¬ 
ing, if we don’t help people with it to a higher 
plane? They taught you that at Yale, I am sure, 
if I learned it at little Colestone College.” 

“ Oh, I surrender ! I kiss the dust! Long live 
reform ! Why, you are Elijah Parkhurst; and jjw 


stacked: 


19 


are — Miss Parkhurst. And in remorse for my 
suggestion of scepticism I ’m going to help you. 
Yes, you must let me, for I have n’t a thing to do; 
not a thing. Moreover, I have n’t any prospect 
of having anything to do.” And as Ben held the 
frame for Elijah to bore holes, or assisted Florence 
at her rapidly filled cases, he chattered on about 
his plans — or lack of them. 

For Ben Jarvis was unfortunately the son of a 
rich man. Not compelled by necessity to choose 
an occupation, he had passed through Yale, rank¬ 
ing high in his class, to be sure, but without form¬ 
ing any life plans — or, rather, forming a hundred, 
each carelessly adopted, and as carelessly thrust 
aside in a few weeks. And now, at the end of his 
course, he was quite as undecided as at the begin¬ 
ning. To-day, certainly, he seemed to wish noth¬ 
ing better in life than to aid neat-handed Florence 
at her bright task. 

There were many other visitors during the 
morning, for the new enterprise was much talked 
about in gossipy Danford. There was good old 
Mrs. Barton, who wore her white ribbon as a royal 
decoration, — which, indeed, it was, — and who 
came in to urge Elijah to place the new organ on 
strong temperance ground from the start. There 
was brisk little Miss Fessenden, a jolly old maid, 
who popped in her head as .she passed, merely to 
warn the new editor not to put any faith in what- 


20 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


ever rumors he might hear of her getting married. 
There was Farmer Jackson, with the story of a 
phenomenal yield of strawberries from an eighth 
of an acre, an account that would render forever 
illustrious the first number of the new journal. 
And — not to mention others — there was the 
town poet, who came with a roll of ludicrous 
verses, which he had composed “ a-pu’pus for the 
first number o’ the new paper;” and he could fur¬ 
nish a poem a week, if desired, and if Elijah would 
tell him how many “stanzys” he wanted in each. 

It was after a hard, though delightful, day’s 
work, that Elijah and Florence and Ben looked 
about them with pride as they were on the point 
of leaving for supper. The heaped-up type-cases 
glistened in the last rays of the setting sun. The 
smooth, white expanse of the imposing-stone 
seemed smiling in anticipation of the important 
burdens it was to carry. The press was inked, 
and stood ready for a job. Elijah’s desk — 
brought from his own home — was stocked with 
paper and pens, with mucilage-bottle and the edi¬ 
torial shears. “This is my busy day,” Ben had 
scrawled on a sheet of paper, and stuck up on the 
wall above it. Outside, over the door, hung the 
glittering new sign : — 


The Danford Citizen. 



stacked: 


21 


“Our humble salaams, Editor Tone,” cried Ben 
and Florence, bowing low before the new digni¬ 
tary. Then they went home to supper. 

Early the next morning Elijah visited the office, 
for it was to be a busy day for him. 

As he came within sight of the little building, 
he saw something that made him hasten his steps, 
while a hot flush reddened his cheeks. The bright 
new sign had been torn down, and lay in splinters 
on the ground before the door ! A window was 
open, and it was with a hand that trembled from 
excitement that Elijah used his office-key. Fling¬ 
ing wide the door, he saw a sight that made the 
very blood in his veins boil with righteous indigna¬ 
tion. The place had been “ stacked ! ” 


22 


ELIJAH TOXE , CITIZEX. 


CHAPTER III. 

ORGANIZING VICTORY OUT OF DEFEAT. 

“ Stacked ! ” Possibly that word, from the vo¬ 
cabulary of college slang, may be new to you. 
Well, at any rate, this is what it meant for poor 
Elijah: — 

In the middle of the little room lay a pile of 
type — evidently every bit of the type that Flor¬ 
ence’s careful fingers had placed in their myriad 
compartments the day before ; and now all was in 
a jumble on the floor. There was the large job- 
type, the long primer, the brevier, the nonpareil, 
the agate, “ caps ” and “ small caps ” and “lower 
case,” “ Roman ” and italic, fancy letters and plain 
borders and rules, spaces and “ quads,” “ leads ” 
and figures, — all in a heartbreaking heap. It 
would need days of profitless work to bring order 
out of that chaos. 

But that was by no means all. 

Over the white walls the ink had been smooched 
till they were fantastic in their grime. The type- 
cases had been thrown in a rough heap, and many 
of the compartments were broken. The frame for 


ORGANIZING VICTORY OUT OF DEFEAT 23 

the cases was overturned and wrenched apart. 
Elijah’s desk was upside down, while all its neatly- 
arranged contents littered the room. On top of the 
upturned desk had been thrown the office chairs. 
Below Ben Jarvis’s joking sign, “ This is my busy 
day,” was printed, in a bold, black letter : “ We’ll 

GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO BE BUSY ABOUT.” 

Elijah’s college football had given him a pretty 
good control of his temper, but this was almost 
too much for him. 

“ Oh, that scoundrel of a Caspar Griffith ! ” he 
cried out between his set teeth. “ This is his 
work. The war is on, now ; and it shall be war to 
the knife.” 

Not the spirit of “ turning the other cheek ” ? 
I grant that; but you should have seen that room! 

Elijah flung a chair right side up, and sat down 
to glower around him. The chair — a new one — 
collapsed with a broken leg, and he barely saved 
himself from a fall. Then he sat down on the 
overturned desk, and gazed about him with bitter¬ 
ness in his soul. 

“Need enough,” said he to himself, “of a decent 
town paper and a decent man to run it.” Then 
he fell into a deep meditation as to his next step. 

From this brown study he was roused by a pro¬ 
longed “ Whee-e-e-e-ew ! ” and looking up he saw 
Ben Jarvis at the open door, his face the picture 
of disgust as he viewed the ruins. 


24 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


“ Well, I know who did that! ” declared Ben. 
“ I’d have the law on ’em, Elijah, before I was an 
hour older.” 

“ So would I, if I could ; but what evidence 
have I ? ” answered Elijah stolidly. 

“Just look at the walls, Elijah ! And all that 
new type Miss Florence put away so carefully ! ” 

“ And look what they added to your notice, 
Ben.” 

Ben read it. “ I wish they had written it. That 
might have given evidence against them ; but they 
were too sly for that.” 

Ben continued his investigations, while Elijah 
sat moodily on the desk. The silence was un¬ 
broken, except by Ben’s indignant groans as he 
discovered some new enormity. 

Suddenly Elijah rose, speaking with decision. 

“ Do you know what I ’m going to do with this 
room, Ben ? ” 

“What?” 

“ Nothing at all.” 

“ Nothing at all ? ” 

“ Absolutely nothing. I am going to leave the 
place open, and invite the whole town in to see 
what has been done. Of course I shall not say 
who did it. They can easily guess that.” 

“ But the time you will lose ” — began Ben. 

“ I shall not lose any time. The first number 
of The Citizen comes this morning, and I mean to 


ORGANIZING VICTORY OUT OF DEFEAT 25 

put in the time canvassing for subscribers. I did 
n’t intend to do any such thing, but this affair has 
given me grit enough to do it.” 

“ Good ! ” cried Ben, clapping his hands. “ I’m 
with you! Give me a bundle of papers, and I ’ll 
visit half the town before night. If any one hesi¬ 
tates, I ’ll picture this scene. I ’ll use it as a 
parable of the condition of our town under the 
leadership of The Bee ! Give me a pen.” 

With that, Ben fumbled around among the debris 
from the desk, found a large pen, a sheet of 
crumpled paper, and a half-empty bottle of ink, 
with which materials he speedily prepared this 
notice: — 


STEP IN EVERYBODY! 

AND SEE THE RESULT OF AN ATTEMPT TO ESTAB¬ 
LISH A REFORM PAPER IN DANFORD! 

What do you think of it? 

O11 which side are you? 

WITH THE HELP OF THE MEN OF DANFORD WHO 
BELIEVE IN UPRIGHTNESS, 

The Danford Citizen 

WILL SOON BE ON ITS FEET — AND KICKING. 


This notice they tacked by the side of the door, 
where every one could see it, and then, leaving the 
door wide open, they went to the express office 
after the first number of The Citizen. 



2 6 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


At the express office, to be sure, a big brown 
paper bundle was awaiting them. Elijah opened 
it with eagerness. Yes, there it was, “ The Dan- 
ford Citizen , Vol. i., No. i ; ” and there, in clear 
type on the second page, at the head of the first 
column, were these magical words : “ Elijah Tone, 
Editor ” ! 

It was a neatly printed, four-page affair. Natu¬ 
rally, at this stage of the game, there were few 
advertisements, and the space not occupied by local 
news was largely filled with interesting “ plate ” 
matter — short articles, that is, sent out in electro¬ 
type plates, by a great central concern, for small 
papers all over the land. There were full columns 
of news from all the towns included in Saunders 
Hackerman’s Village Press Syndicate; but Elijah 
looked with especial interest for the items he him¬ 
self had contributed. Hereafter they were to be 
put into type in his own office; but the first week, 
in order to get things started, he had sent them on 
to Milton in manuscript. 

The joy of seeing one’s own words — on how¬ 
ever commonplace a matter — arrayed in the trimly 
marshalled glory of type! Does there ever come 
a time to the newspaper hack whose quill has kept 
most ploddingly at it, when this delight has utterly 
lost its zest ? At any rate, Elijah was in the first 
glow of this experience, and his intense pride and 
pleasure made him forget, for a moment, the scene 
of wretched destruction he had just left. 


ORGANIZING VICTORY OUT OF DEFEAT 27 

“ What you got there ? ” asked Sam Dawson, the 
old express agent, unable to restrain his curiosity. 

“ What! The new town paper ? Sho ! I want 
ter know! So yer reely goin’ ter run op’sition to 
The Bee ? Well, good fer you ! If there ’s a pesky 
mean paper on this footstool it’s that. Well, you 
’ve got my best wishes, boys.” 

“ Can’t we have your dollar, too ? ” spoke up 
Ben. 

“ Haw ! haw ! haw ! that ’s business ! You ’ll 
make it go, I see. Yes, here’s my subscription. 
Dawson ’s always ready to back up his word.” 

“ Good ! You ’re my first subscriber, Mr. Daw¬ 
son,” said Elijah, as he wrote out a receipt for the 
dollar ; “ and I ’ll need a good many to repair the 
damage done last night.” Then he went on, telling 
to sympathetic ears the plight in which the office 
of The Citizen then was. 

“ Time somepin was done! time somepin was 
done ! ” growled the old man. “ This town is going 
to the dogs, and I know the curs that are sending 
it there. Well, good luck to ye, Editor Tone. 
Pitch in, and see ’f you can’t improve things.” 

“ I ’ll do that,” promised Elijah heartily, starting 
out with his bundle of papers. First, however, by 
Mr. Dawson’s invitation, he tacked a sample Citi¬ 
zen on the railroad bulletin-board, where all day it 
was the centre of an animated company of talkers, 
some ardently approving it, but the majority — for 


28 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


it was about the railroad station that the village 
loafers congregated — as hotly condemning it as 
“ a dudish, stuck-up paper, and The Bee could lick 
it with its little finger.” 

But while the village loafers were making their 
unfavorable comments on the new journal, its edi¬ 
tor, together with Ben Jarvis, was systematically 
visiting every house in town. They took street 
after street in the most dogged fashion imaginable, 
not even omitting the most pronounced friend of 
The Bee and of the state of things The Bee repre¬ 
sented, but, as Ben said, “ giving them all a chance 
to be good.” Ben took one side of each street 
and Elijah the other, and frequent were their meet¬ 
ings at corners for mutual comfort or for mutual 
exultation. 

“ Poor old Widow Groton wanted to take it,” 
said Elijah, on one of these occasions, “ but that 
wretched drunken son of hers leaves her with 
scarcely enough money to get things to eat. It 
made the tears come to my eyes to talk with her. 
She pleaded with me to condemn the saloons in 
The Citizen. I guess I don’t need any urging! ” 

“Had a funny time with Cap’n Galway,” re¬ 
ported Ben. “You know that smart account of 
his slipping down on the ice The Bee printed last 
winter ? ” 

“Yes, indeed. Making fun of a one-legged 
soldier! ” 


ORGANIZING VICTORY OUT OF DEFEAT 29 

“Well, the Cap’n is still as mad as fire over 
it. He stumped back and forth through his 
parlor, and swore all the oaths in his vocabu¬ 
lary, and it’s a large one, as he went over the 
story and read the Bee's paragraph. He ’d care¬ 
fully clipped it, and keeps it by him to read when¬ 
ever his wrath’s in danger of cooling. He would 
have subscribed, if the price had been ten dollars 
a year.” 

Thus they went on, getting a subscription from 
Parson Holworthy, who insisted on Elijah’s kneel¬ 
ing right down then and there, while he prayed 
for God’s blessing on the new venture, and send¬ 
ing the young editor away richer by many times 
the value of his subscription ; getting a dollar, too, 
from Deacon Symonds, whose fine grape-vines, 
hung with great clusters all ready for the county 
fair, had been robbed last year, and The Bee had 
treated the matter as a good joke ; failing to get 
one from rich Miss Dewey, who squeezed her dol¬ 
lars so tight that the eagle screamed, as Ben de¬ 
clared, and who told Ben that he might leave a 
paper, if it did n’t cost anything for a sample 
copy, and she would think about it; being roundly 
abused by some, and actually turned away by 
others, and received by still others with an effer¬ 
vescence of praise but no money, — altogether, it 
was a day full of experience, and, as Elijah said, 
brought them more knowledge of human nature 


30 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


than a whole year of psychology under Professor 
Wilcomb. 

In the afternoon their success was greater than 
in the morning, for by that time the story of the 
“ stacking ” had become well known, and many in 
the town had themselves become eye-witnesses of 
the mischief wrought. Elijah and Ben kept away 
from the scene, though occasionally, looking down 
the long street toward the place, they could see 
that a crowd was there, manufacturing sentiment 
for The Citizen; and they went on their way re¬ 
joicing. So thoroughly was the spirit of the com¬ 
munity aroused, and so well did they make their 
plea, that when night came, and they returned to 
supper, they had $223.00 to show as the first day’s 
earnings of the new paper. And, besides this, 
they had many promises of adherence, some of 
which would be sure to bear financial fruit. 

Elijah was on the point of bursting out with 
this good news as soon as he reached home, when 
he was checked by the sight of a strange figure 
waiting for him in the sitting-room. 

In size it seemed a little boy, but the face was 
pinched and wrinkled and sallow as an old man’s. 
The arms were disproportionately long, but the 
hands at the end of the arms were finely shaped, 
and as white and delicate as a girl’s. A great 
hump on the back showed Elijah at once that he 
was in the presence of a dwarf. 


ORGANIZING VICTORY OUT OF DEFEAT 31 

The hunchback rose upon his little legs, the hat 
he held in his hand almost touching the floor. 

“ I am sent from the Milton Orphans’ Home,” 
said he simply. “ I am to be the foreman of 
your printing-office.” 


32 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE BEE HAS A RED-HOT STING. 

Elijah was filled with astonishment and disgust. 
This, then, was the efficient foreman he had been 
promised! His face must have expressed some¬ 
thing of his feelings, for the dwarf, looking know¬ 
ingly up at him, said, “ You think I am no good ? 
Well, you just try me once. That ’s all I’ve got 
to ask.” 

“ Oh, you certainly know your business,” said 
Elijah hastily; “that is, if you have been trained in 
the printing-office of the Milton Orphans’ Home.” ’ 

“ Been there all my life,” sadly replied the little 
fellow; “ that is, except lately, when they have 
been sending me off on jobs like this. Good thing 
for them ! ” 

“ And for you, too, is n’t it ? 

“ Why, no. I don’t get nothing out of it — not 
even as good board an’ lodging as I get at the 
Home.” 

That put a new thought in Elijah’s head. 

“ Where did Mr. Hackerman arrange for you to 
stay?” 


THE BEE HAS A RED-HOT STING. 33 


“Mr. Hackerman ? Who ’s he ? ” 

“ Did n’t Mr. Hackerman employ you ? ” 

“ Course not. Nobody hires me. The Home 
just rents me out; an’ will, till I ’m of age. He 
saw Cap’n Bulfinch, I s’pose.” 

“Well, Mr. Hackerman should have attended to 
that matter,” said Elijah, greatly annoyed. 

“ Guess I ’m on your hands,” muttered the dwarf 
bitterly. “Always am on somebody’s hands.” 

Elijah shook off his displeasure, and addressed 
the newcomer more cordially, — 

“Well, it is n’t your fault, anyway, Mr.-, 

Mr.-, what is your name ? ” 

“ My name ? Oh, Phillips. P. T. Phillips.” 

“ But your first name ? I ought to call you by 
your first name.” 

“ Have n’t any first name. Just ‘ P. T.’ ” 

“Just ‘P. T.’?” 

“Yes, just ‘P. T.’ Looks as if my parents, 
when they had n’t anything else to give me, might 
as well have given me a name ; but they did n’t, 
because they could n’t think of any except ‘ P. T.,’ 
an’ they said I could fill it up for myself. But it 
never got filled up.” 

“Well, ‘ P. T., ’ ” said Elijah, laughing, “I don’t 
know about you , but / am hungry. Let’s go out 
to supper.” 

At the supper-table P. T. was plainly ill at ease. 
His fine white hands quivered in their nervousness. 




34 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


Mr. and Mrs. Tone had given him a cold and en¬ 
tirely disapproving reception, and though Florence 
greeted him with all the kindness of her beautiful 
soul, the dwarf was ill at ease. No wonder that, 
when the discussion turned on the disposal of him 
for the night, he proposed that he should sleep in 
the office. 

He had heard of the “ stacking.” “ If I had been 
sleeping there,” said he, “it would n’t have hap¬ 
pened.” 

“ But would n’t you be afraid ? ” asked Florence. 

“ Afraid ? ” and the dwarf turned on her a mourn¬ 
ful pair of eyes that spoke of a life so gloomy that 
it was past fear for itself. “ And yet,” thought 
Florence, “ I don’t believe he is more than sixteen 
years old.” 

And finally, after much discussion, and strong 
declarations from P. T. that this was just what he 
would prefer, it was settled that the office should 
be his home, — for the present, at least; a decision 
from which came important results. 

After supper Elijah and the dwarf wheeled a 
barrow full of bedclothes over to the office, which 
was only two squares away. They carried also a 
small mattress, and whatever Florence could think 
of as necessary for the little fellow’s comfort. 
“You are taking lots of trouble, Miss Tone,” said 
P. T. gratefully. 

It was dark when they arrived, but Elijah lighted 


THE BEE HAS A RED-HOT STING. 35 

the small lamp he had brought, pulled down the 
curtains, and showed his foreman what ruin had 
been wrought the night before. 

P. T. was full of indignation. 

“ The mean sneaks ! ” cried he. “ I ’d like to 
make them eat that type, every letter of it.” 

“ And wash it down with the printer’s ink they 
put on the wall! ” added Elijah, laughing. 

The mattress was spread, and the bed neatly 
made, with the help of P. T., who had learned to 
make beds well under the strict training of the 
Orphans’ Home. 

“ Good-night, P. T.,” said Elijah, when all was 
done. “ Good-night, and I hope The Bee won’t 
sting to-night.” 

“ I hope he will try to,” answered P. T. fiercely; 
“ I just do.” 

But for that night the wrecked establishment 
was left alone, and P. T. appeared at Elijah’s break¬ 
fast-table with no news to tell. 

The next day was a busy one ; and in its business 
P. T. was a lively factor. His delicate hands darted 
above the type-cases like swallows, and the types 
fell in a continuous patter into their proper recep¬ 
tacles. Surrounded by an array of cases, he sat 
cross-legged on the floor, and it was wonderful to 
see him distribute from the complex pile, turning 
in a flash from an italic case to one of fancy type, 
then to one of Roman, to “caps,” to brevier, to 


36 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


long primer, to agate, making no mistake, never 
getting flurried, but with the quiet ease of a mas¬ 
ter who knows his skill and rejoices in it. 

Away from his work, P. T. was gloomy, taciturn, 
and shrinking. At his task, however, he was a 
different being. His eye sparkled, his face grew 
animated, and he began to whistle like a mocking¬ 
bird. Elijah, who was engaged in the heavier work 
of putting together the wrecked frame and other 
office furniture, often stopped his labor to gaze at 
the dwarf, to admire his skill, and inwardly to re¬ 
solve that he himself would become equally master 
of his own branch of the business, — the editing. 

Something of that editing had to be done at 
once, if Elijah was to be in time with his next 
week’s copy. Our college graduate had not been 
very proud of his first work on The Citizen , when 
he came to read it over. It sounded heavy and 
dull. It was respectable enough; there was no 
bad grammar; but Elijah was enough of a jour¬ 
nalist to know that, unless writing is attractive, it 
matters not how respectable it is. The highest 
characteristic of a good writer is to write what 
people ought to read ; but his first characteristic 
must be to write what they will want to read. 
Then let him put the two together. 

Elijah tried to apply this truth. 

In his first number, for instance, he had writ¬ 
ten : — 


THE BEE HAS A RED-HOT STING. '37 

“ While playing with the family hatchet last 
Wednesday, Charles, the eight-year-old son of Mr. 
Samuel Fanshaw, had the misfortune to bring it 
down upon his thumb in such a way as to cut off 
the nail, inflicting a painful, though happily not a 
serious, wound, which was dressed by Dr. Aldrich.” 

“ Now, that will never do,” declared Elijah in 
self-contempt, when he read this in merciless type. 
“ All in one sentence ! And such a sentence ! 
The Citizen will never oust The Bee after that 
fashion.” 

As it happened, our editor had to chronicle this 
week another juvenile accident; but this time he 
wrote it up in the following way : — 

“ Friday was indeed an unlucky day for Archie 
Kingman. He was coasting down Colton Hill on 
his new Columbia, when a puppy, as yet untaught 
in the matter of bicycles, disputed his right of way. 
Archie, who is a very polite little fellow, turned 
out; but he also turned over. Reuben Jameson 
patched up the wheel, and Dr. Seaver patched up 
Archie.” 

“ That is too long,” said Elijah, on reading it 
over, “ but it is better.” 

Here, too, is one of the Colestone College items 
that Elijah had inserted in the first number of 
The Citizen: — 

“ The learned and deservedly popular head of 
the department of physics and chemistry, Profes- 


3 * 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


sor Barton, has just received a new spectroscope, 
which will add greatly to the efficiency of his al¬ 
ready efficient courses. The instrument is of the 
very best make, and was imported from Germany.” 

“ Now, how many readers of The Citizen ,” asked 
Elijah, criticising his work to himself, “ will know 
what a spectroscope is ? Probably not one in ten. 
Another journalistic error.” 

So he went to work and wrote a second item for 
the next week’s paper : — 

“ A spectroscope is a set of lenses so placed as 
to separate white light into the colors that make 
it up. It sorts the colors as a man would sort a 
pile of greenbacks, throwing the rapid light rays 

— the fifteens and twenties — to one side, and the 
slower rays — the fives and twos and dollar bills 

— to the other side. The students are getting 
lots of instruction from Professor Barton’s new in¬ 
strument. The freshmen are thinking of pattern¬ 
ing after the hydrogen spectrum for their class 
colors.” 

“That might be shorter, too,” said Elijah, re¬ 
viewing his paragraph, “ but it ’s an improvement. 
I begin to see why there are said to be only four 
or five good paragraphers in the United States.” 

Of course, the next number was to contain an 
account of the “ stacking ” of The Citizen office. 
Elijah wrote of the matter in a tone of the most 
bitter wrath. 


THE BEE HAS A RED-HOT STING. 39 


“How doth the little busy Bee 
Improve its midnight hours,” 

he quoted for the introduction. But, on reflec¬ 
tion, and especially after he had shown the edito¬ 
rial to Ben and Florence, he decided that he had 
taken the wrong course. 

“You can’t prove your insinuations,” urged 
Florence, “ and, without proof, they would lay you 
open to the charge of libel.” 

“Yes, and anyway,” added Ben, “you seem to 
take it too much to heart. The public likes to 
have an editor take everything brightly. All the 
fiery indignation in the world won’t burn out The 
Bee; but just you poke a little fun at him, if you 
want to see him swarm.” 

Elijah thought this was good advice, and took 
it. By this he showed that he had at least one 
first-rate qualification for a good editor, — he 
was n’t pig-headed. His second editorial was lively 
reading. It treated the whole affair as a huge 
joke, but turned the joke on the perpetrators of 
it. The “stacker” was doubtless some kind 
friend, he said, that wanted to treat The Citizen to 
“pi.” How thoughtful in him to carry out his 
generous intentions at the only time when they 
could have been carried out without demolishing 
some masterly editorial, some witty paragraph, 
some brilliant essay, or some glowing poem ! 
« Whoever it bee,” the editorial concluded, — and 


40 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


Elijah could not deny himself this little innuendo, 
“ that has thus played the role of midnight philan¬ 
thropist, if he will call at our reconstructed sanc¬ 
tum during office hours, — which do not extend 
to 12 p.m., — we shall be very happy, in return 
for his ‘ pi,’ to treat him to 4 pizen.’ ‘ Rough on 
rats’ would be most suitable.” 

“Well, that ’s not so bad,” commented Ben. 
“ At least, you are not tearing your hair in it, and 
you give the impression that The Citizen could 
stand any number of little things like that.” 

Having completed his two columns of Danford 
items, Elijah was compelled to send the manu¬ 
script once more to Milton to be put in type, for 
P. T.’s distributing was not far enough advanced 
to admit of typesetting. In the letter, Elijah gave 
Mr. Hackerman a vivid account of the raid upon 
the office, told of his success in the canvass for 
subscriptions, and at the same time intimated very 
plainly that Mr. Hackerman should be providing 
board and lodging for P. T. This Mr. Hacker¬ 
man, by return mail, agreed to do very soon. 

It was fortunate, however, that P. T. was where 
he was. 

Things went on in this way for several days, 
the dwarf keeping steadily at his swift distribut¬ 
ing, Elijah and Ben completing their canvass of 
the town and meeting with rich success, and the 
newspaper constantly growing in the good graces 


THE BEE HAS A RED-HOT STING. 41 


of the best people because of what Elijah told 
them of his plans and purposes. Orders for job- 
work began to come in, and Elijah soon saw that 
he and P. T. would both have their hands full. 

At length, one evening, exactly a week after the 
“ stacking,” the office of The Citizen was in good 
trim again, every type in its place, the walls cleaned 
and whitewashed, the furniture mended, and a new 
sign hung out in front even smarter than the first 
one. 

Elijah was very tired that night, and slept 
soundly; so soundly that it was Florence that first 
heard a shout outside, and ran to awaken him. 

“ Fire! Fire ! Oh, hurry ! ” a voice was crying, 
out in the yard. 

Elijah rushed to the window. “ Who is it ? ” he 
called. “ Who is it ? ” 

“ Me ! P. T.! ” was the answer. “ They ’ve set 
your office on fire ! Come quick ! ” 


42 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


CHAPTER V. 

Elijah’s thoughts take a new turn. 

You may be sure that Elijah lost no time in 
hurrying on his clothes, though his hands trem¬ 
bled so that he could scarcely fasten a button. 
He shouted to P. T. below, “ Cry ‘ Fire ’ at the 
top of your voice ! Raise the town ! ” 

The neighborhood was already aroused. Win¬ 
dows were thrown open, and excited questions 
shouted out. P. T. did not remain to answer any 
of them. Screaming “ Fire ! ” with all his might, 
he scurried off down the street as fast as his short 
legs could carry him. 

“Do be careful, Elijah!” cried Mrs. Tone, as 
our editor plunged out of the house. 

“ Don’t worry, mother,” he found time to shout 
back at her cheerily. 

On turning the corner he came in full sight of 
the office, and saw that one side was all ablaze. 
Two or three men were already there, however, 
and he heard the sharp squeak of a pump-handle 
energetically worked. Running nearer, he saw that 
the little hunchback was urging on the workers 


ELIJAH'S THOUGHTS TAKE A NEW TURN. 43 

with shrill voice and with frenzied gestures. The 
quick clatter of many running feet sounded on the 
still night air. 

“ Form a line ! Form a line ! ” shouted Elijah, 
running up almost out of breath. 

Next door was a pump, from which the few men 
were carrying water to dash up against the side of 
the building; but that was plainly too slow a pro¬ 
cess. By the time Elijah and P. T. had marshalled 
in a line the men on hand and those that came 
running swiftly to re-enforce them, the fire was 
burning fiercely, and roaring with a rage that 
made Elijah’s heart sink. 

Nevertheless, they went at it with a will, the 
faces of the men set and determined in the glare. 
They relieved one another at the pump. Buckets 
were passed so eagerly that half their contents 
was spilled before they reached the fire. A second 
line was formed to pass the empty buckets back 
again. “ Keep it up, friends ! Keep it up, friends ! ” 
cried Elijah. 

But evidently they were not all friends. By 
this time a crowd of “toughs ” had collected, from 
whom rose hoots of derision. One of these ran 
boldly up with an axe. He was just about to 
smash in a window, when Elijah saw him and 
struck him back. The fellow slunk away with an 
oath. 

Ben Jarvis came puffing up to Elijah. His 


44 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


house was on the very outskirts of the town, and 
he had run all the way. “ Go inside,” said Elijah, 
“and see if it is coming through.” 

Ben found the office already filled with half a 
dozen men, blunderingly bustling about by the 
light that came around the corner from outside. 
His quick eye saw one fellow jerk out a case of 
type and empty it on the floor. At the same 
moment, another, as if by accident, overthrew the 
desk. Ben seized the latter with a grip born of 
the Yale gymnasium, pulled him struggling to the 
door, and kicked him out. Then he turned to 
serve in the same way his fellow rascal, when the 
entire room flashed into light. The fire had broken 
through the wall. 

“ Hurry out the furniture and the type, men ! ” 
shouted Ben ; but at the same moment Elijah from 
the door countermanded the order. “ No, no! 
Let it alone. They are getting the better of the 
fire.” 

And indeed they were. Seeing that one side 
of the building was surely doomed, strong men 
had begun to work with axes, and swung them in 
the face of the scorching heat with such a will as, 
aided by the flames, entirely to detatch that side 
from the remainder of the house. What the axes 
did not do, a few vigorous pulls on a long rail thrust 
into one corner succeeded in completing. Just as 
the fire burst clear through into the interior, the 


ELIJAH'S THOUGHTS TAKE A NEW TURN. 45 

entire wall fell, while the crowd of toilers raised a 
shout of triumph. 

The rest was easy work. The fire had caught 
on the roof here and there, and had spread part 
way down the walls next to that which was cut 
away ; but the deluges of water soon put out these 
smaller flames. Nothing was left but to extin¬ 
guish the still blazing posts and beams which alone 
were left of the wall that had been consumed. 

It was almost in the dark, therefore, that Elijah, 
from the roof of the building, where he had been 
applying the final buckets of water, called out, 
“ A thousand thanks, neighbors and friends. The 
Danford Citizen is passing through the fiery fur¬ 
nace just now, but he’s only a little singed. We ’ll 
put on a poultice to-morrow, and he ’ll be all 
right again. Of course this fire was incendiary. 
If I can find out who set it, you will all help me 
to bring them to punishment, I am sure.” 

“ Yes ! yes ! ” came in angry tones from a hun¬ 
dred throats. 

“ We can guess who did it*” shouted out one; 
“and if he ’s wise, he ’d better make tracks at 
once.” 

“That ’s right! That ’s so! ” came in a deep 
growl from many a man ; and the “ toughs,” who 
now were thickly mingled with the crowd, did not 
dare to let themselves be heard in opposition. 

“Three cheers for The Danford Citizen ! ” pro- 


46 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


posed Ben, as the impromptu fire brigade began to 
disperse. And the cheers were given with a will. 

When every one else had gone, Elijah, Ben, and 
P. T. drew together within the three remaining 
sides of The Citizen office. Elijah and P. T. de¬ 
cided to stay on guard the rest of the night. As 
soon as the fire was out, Florence and her father 
had gone home, to relieve the anxiety of Mrs. 
Tone. 

“And now, P. T.,” said Elijah, “what do you 
know about it ? ” 

“ Only this. I woke up with hearing a kind of 
s-s-wash against the side of the house. They must 
have been pouring on kerosene. I did n’t take it 
in, though, an’ I lay low for a minute. And then 
all of a sudden came a big light and a roaring, and 
I got into my clothes as quick as I could, and ran 
for you. And as I opened the door I guess I sur¬ 
prised them, rather, for .1 heard one chap call to 
another, ‘ Light out, Caspar! ’ and then two men 
jumped away from the blaze, and ran down street 
lickity-cut.” 

“‘Caspar’ !” cried Ben and Elijah, greatly ex¬ 
cited. “ Are you sure you heard that name 
called ? ” 

“As sure as my name is P. T. The fellow who 
called it was so scared he did n’t even try to 
whisper it. Now do you know any one named 
Caspar ? ” 


ELIJAH'S THOUGHTS TAKE A NEW TURN. Aj 

“Do we? I guess we do! Why, that ’s the 
name of Griffith, the editor of The Bee , and I ’ll 
warrant the other fellow was that hangdog of a 
foreman he has, Ned Record. You did n’t hear 
Ned’s name, did you?” 

“ No, nothing but ‘ Caspar.’ ” 

“ Well, that’s enough. Ben, I am going to have 
him arrested the first thing to-morrow morning.” 

It may well be imagined that no sleep came to 
the eyes of P. T. or Elijah the rest of that night. 
On the first glimpse of daylight Elijah left P. T., in 
order to bring from his house an immense cotton 
flag and several old sheets. With these he speedily 
constructed a temporary covering for the unpro¬ 
tected side of his sanctum — one that would an¬ 
swer finely till the carpenters could get to work. 
Elijah did not want to leave P. T. without some 
barricade against the curious throng that he knew 
would soon crowd about the scene of last night’s 
excitement. 

He himself, however, after a hasty breakfast, 
posted off after the mayor; the mayor, I say, for, 
small as the village was, after the prevalent West¬ 
ern fashion it had the city form of government, 
with all the city officers. 

Now the mayor of the “city” of Danford was 
Bill Downs, a lazy, pettifogging lawyer, who spent 
most of his time loafing in his shirt-sleeves in front 
of the village post-office, whose occupant was his 


48 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


particular crony. He would plant a cane-bottomed 
chair on the sidewalk, and, tilted back against the 
building, he would argue by the hour about free 
trade and protection, the money question arid the 
labor question, — matters about which his infor¬ 
mation was as scanty as the red mustache, whose 
straggling bristles stuck out irregularly from his 
upper lip. It was in this place, and already thus 
engaged, that Elijah found him. 

“ Mr. Mayor,” said the editor of The Citizen at 
once, “ I want you to have your marshal arrest the 
men who set fire to my office last night.” 

“ O, you do, eh ? ” coolly remarked the mayor, at 
the same time squirting a stream of tobacco juice 
on the sidewalk, and winking at the loafers who 
surrounded him. 

“Yes, I do,” answered Elijah hotly. 

“ Wa-all, ’f you want ’em arrested, guess you ’ll 
have to pint ’em out.” 

At this sally the courtiers around the village 
magnate raised a loud guffaw. 

“ I can do that, sir. At any rate, I can point 
out the leader. It is Caspar Griffith.” 

“ It is, eh ? ” drawled Mayor Bill Downs, shifting 
his quid to the other side of his mouth. “ S’pose 
you saw him do it, eh ? ” 

“ No, but my foreman saw two men running 
away from the fire just after it started, and one of 
them called the other ‘ Caspar. ’ ” 


ELIJAH'S THOUGHTS TAKE A NEW TURN. 49 

“ That all yer evidence ? Then you go hang.” 

Chuckles of delight from the bystanders. 

“ Do you mean that you refuse to have Caspar 
Griffith arrested ? ” 

For answer the mayor merely gazed insolently 
around the circle of listeners, quirking up his eye. 

Elijah repeated his question with emphasis. 

“Yes, that ’s just what I mean,” said Mayor 
Downs, bringing his chair to a horizontal position, 
and slapping his knee to make his remark sound 
the fiercer. “ And, young feller, you ’ll get your¬ 
self into' trouble, the first thing you know, bringing 
a charge like that against a respectable citizen just 
because your half-witted dwarf heard a man called 
by a given name that happens to be the same as 
his’n. D’ ye hear ? ” 

Elijah walked off in supreme disgust. His indig¬ 
nation was not because the mayor refused to order 
Griffith’s arrest, for he began to see that his evi¬ 
dence, after all, was not strong enough to prove 
his case in a court of law, however satisfactory it 
might be to himself and his friends ; but what 
enraged him was the mayor’s attitude, so out¬ 
rageously and boldly on the side of wickedness. 

“ And to think that this town, this college town, 
must be presided over by such a man ! ” spluttered 
Elijah to himself as he went along. 

“ But why must it ?” he suddenly asked himself. 
“ Yes, why must it ? Is n’t that one of the very 


50 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


things The Citizen must include in its mission, to 
change public sentiment, to arouse it so as to make 
the rule of a Mayor Downs forever impossible in a 
community like this ? Why, it is only the lethargy 
of the best citizens that permits him to continue in 
office, year after year. 

“And his term expires this year, and he has to 
stand for election again this very fall,” thought 
Elijah suddenly. 

Our editor’s face flushed, and he quickened his 
pace. A new thought had come into his head. It 
was something that caused his blood to beat quickly, 
and brightened his eyes. 

“ I ’ll do it! ” said he. “ I ’ll ask him, and urge 
it till he consents. And then The Citizen will have 
a battle to fight that will be worthy of its steel.” 

With an eager, swinging step, Elijah walked 
rapidly through the town till he came to the out¬ 
skirts, and stopped in front of the large and com¬ 
fortable home of Mr. Jarvis. Hurrying up the 
broad stone walk, and entering, as usual, without 
ringing, he went straightway — not to Ben’s room, 
but to the study, where he knew he would find 
Ben’s father. 

“ Come in,” called a full, rich voice in answer to 
Elijah’s knock, and Elijah entered. 

At a library table, surrounded with books from 
which he was evidently making copious extracts, 
sat a man whom Elijah profoundly revered, Nathan 


ELIJAH'S THOUGHTS TAKE A NEW TURN 51 

Jarvis, the well-known writer on sociology, then in 
the prime of his useful and honored life. 

“ And what can I do for the editor of The Citi¬ 
zen ?” he asked pleasantly, as he motioned Elijah 
to a great leather-covered chair near him. “ They 
tell me you passed through some fiery trials last 
night.” 

“Mr. Jarvis,” said Elijah bluntly, plunging, as 
was his wont, right into the very midst of his sub¬ 
ject, “ I have come to see if you will not permit 
your name to be used at the next election as a 
candidate for mayor of Danford.” 


52 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


CHAPTER VI. 

P. T. GETS INTO TROUBLE. 

“ Why, my boy, what do you mean ? ” exclaimed 
Mr. Jarvis in the greatest amazement, bending his 
bushy eyebrows at our audacious hero. 

“ I want to nominate in The Citizen the best 
man in the town for mayor, and get him elected. 
And the best man for the place is you, Mr. Jarvis.” 

“ But the place is a disreputable one ; that is, 
it is held by a worthless man, a man no one re¬ 
spects.” 

“ All the more need, sir, of putting in the place 
a man who will restore to it the honor that belongs 
to it. Why, in the days of our forefathers the 
headman of the village was always the noblest of 
them all.” 

“ Of course, theoretically, the office of mayor is 
a very honorable one; but degraded as it is — 
why, it would be absurd ! Why, everybody would 
laugh at me! And besides, I don’t know law.” 

“ You know ten times as much law as the pres¬ 
ent incumbent of the office, or any other man 
that could be found in this village.” 


P. T. GETS INTO TROUBLE . 53 

Mr. Jarvis smiled, for he knew Elijah had cor¬ 
nered him there. 

“ But, my dear boy,” he went on,. “ I have n’t 
time. Why, I am occupied night and day with 
my new treatise on citizenship.” 

“ Mr. Jarvis,” Elijah pleaded very earnestly, 
“forgive me if I seem forward and impertinent, 
but I really believe that the practical test you 
would give your theories of citizenship by taking 
up this highest civic office in our community, 
would add one hundred per cent to the value of 
your book. I have read your chapter in ‘ The 
Town as an Institution ’ on ‘ The Ideal Town 
Government,’ and it is full of delightful possibili¬ 
ties which I should like to see you realize here in 
Danford.” 

“I must confess,” said Mr. Jarvis, “that the 
notion of such an experiment is not a disagreeable 
one, by any means, and I can see the practical 
value of it to my work as a student. More than 
that, to be honest with you, and to say what your 
politeness has kept you from saying, my conscience 
has not always been quiet on this matter, and I 
have wondered whether it was right for the de¬ 
cent men in this town to permit its govern¬ 
ment to fall so completely into the hands of the 
lower elements. But then, I don’t suppose a 
dozen of the Danford people feel that way. Prob¬ 
ably every one is satisfied with things as they 


54 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


are, and would simply keep right on voting for 
Bill Downs.” 

Then Elijah gave him some account of his can¬ 
vass of the town in the interests of The Citizen ; of 
the discontent with the town life he had heard 
expressed, the sorrow caused by its villanous sa¬ 
loons, the disgust aroused by its low-lived officers. 

Mr. Jarvis listened in silence. He was a man 
of few words, and sat for some minutes turning 
the thing over in his mind, Elijah refraining from 
interrupting his thoughts. At length he spoke 
with decision. 

“ It would be easy for me, Elijah, to put you 
off, or send you to some other man, but I am 
afraid if I did that I should be rejecting the call 
I have always held sacred — the call of duty. I 
see the need. I have seen it a long time, and I 
am ashamed that I have waited for you to urge it 
upon me. Some one must be the pioneer in this 
movement for the rescue of our civic life, and I 
don’t know why it should not be I. My life is 
one of leisure, and my studies have all been such 
as to fit me for the work. I will tell you how I 
will leave the matter. If you can bring to me a 
call signed by one hundred of the men in Danford, 
asking me to be their candidate for mayor at the 
next election, I will stand for that office.” 

“ Good ! ” cried Elijah. “ I will have that list 
of names in a few days, and every man who signs 


P. T. GETS INTO TROUBLE. 55 

it will rejoice.” With that Elijah said good-morn¬ 
ing, and went back to the office of The Citizen 
with an exultant spirit. 

“ The Citizen now has a cause to push. May 
God give us the victory.” And right there at the 
outset of his undertaking Elijah lifted a most ear¬ 
nest prayer to the God of nations, that he would 
aid this attempt to make one little corner of the 
nation more pure and noble. He knew well that 
reform without the help of the great Reformer is a 
vain and hopeless task. 

In front of the office, as Elijah had expected, 
was a curious crowd gazing at the work of the 
fire. Elijah had told P. T. where to get a carpen¬ 
ter, who was already there making measurements 
for the new wall and planning the other repairs 
necessary. But the sheets were still in position, 
with the great American flag in the centre. Re¬ 
membering the lofty import of his morning’s work, 
Elijah’s heart gave a bound when he saw that 
beautiful expanse of red, white, and blue. “ May 
my country’s flag always stand alongside my work,” 
he said to himself; for our Elijah was, with his 
feebler powers, as true a patriot as Elijah of old. 

On coming nearer, he saw, in the midst of an 
animated group' discussing the two attacks made 
upon The Citizen , Mr. Saunders Hackerman. 

“Aha, Mr. Tone,” cried that worthy when he 
caught sight of Elijah, “ feel ’s if you were editor 


56 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


of the Arizona Bludgeon , don’t ye? or the Black 
Hills Seven-Shooter , eh? Well, this is n’t half 
bad. Not half. ’T ain’t every paper gets so 
much free advertising the first week. Not exactly 
free, either,” he added ruefully, as he eyed the 
carpenter at work. “ But never mind. It ’s all 
in the course of business. Sorry I could n’t get 
up here sooner. Had my hands full with the 
Village Press Syndicate. Now let ’s go in and 
talk it over.” 

Jerking out these sentences, the Great Starter 
led Elijah into the office, where P. T. alone was 
at work; for the little hunchback had turned a 
deaf ear to all callers and kept steadily at his task 
— the first bit of job-work that had come in. 

Seated in their little office, Elijah at his desk, 
and his black-whiskered employer tipped back in 
a chair opposite him, the story of the week was 
recited with much vehemence by Elijah, and 
heard with keen appreciation by the proprietor of 
The Citizen. 

When Elijah had finished, “ Why,” declared Mr. 
Hackerman, slapping his knees delightedly, “we 
have a splendid hold on the people now. We 
must push matters, and we ’ll scoop The Bee's en¬ 
tire subscription list. That’s it. Push matters.” 

“ But there are two things that ought to be 
better arranged before we go any further, Mr. 
Hackerman.” 


P. T. GETS INTO TROUBLE . 


57 


“ Eh ? ” 

“Yes, two things. One is P. T.’s room and 
board.” 

“ O, the office will support him, and more. 
That ’s all right. Take it out of his job-work.” 

“ But until the job-work begins to come in ? 
And where shall he sleep ? And where shall he 
get his meals ? ” 

“ Let me sleep here,” put in P. T. at this point; 
“at least, until The Bee is driven away.” 

“And as for his eatin’, you can just take it out 
of the money that comes in, an’ send me the 
rest,” and Mr. Hackerman began to whistle “ Way 
Down upon the Suwanee River.” 

“ But where is my pay coming in ? That ’s the 
other thing I wanted to have settled,” said Elijah 
a little shamefacedly, for his mind was so filled 
with the higher aspects of the matter that to 
speak of money in connection with it seemed 
almost a profanation. 

“ Your pay ? O, don’t worry about that. We ’ll 
do the fair thing by you.” And Mr. Hackerman 
went on whistling “ Suwanee River.” 

“ I don’t doubt it, sir, but I should like to know 
what that will be.” 

“ I can’t tell. How can I tell, when everything 
is beginning ? Don’t know what our resources 
are a-goin’ to be. Don’t know how the advertis¬ 
ing ’s a-goin’ to pan out. Can’t tell. You jest 


58 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


wait for a month, and we ’ll make you a generous 
proposition. That ’s fair now, ain’t it ? Eh ? ” 

“ But the paper has made something already,” 
ventured Elijah. “ I sent you two hundred and 
twenty-three dollars the other day.” 

“ Yes. Good day’s work. Noble. Keep it up 
at that pace and you ’ll be worth a big salary to 
us. A big salary. But all that money was swal¬ 
lowed up in this here plant. An’ a good deal 
more.” 

And though Elijah made several other attempts, 
that was all he could get out of Saunders Hacker- 
man. 

Greatly discomforted, our editor nevertheless 
went on to tell about his morning’s work and his 
plans regarding the coming election contest. Mr. 
Hackerman at once stopped whistling “ Suwanee 
River,” and woke up to an enthusiasm that im¬ 
mediately won back Elijah’s flagging loyalty. 

“ Splendid! Glorious! My, but you have a head 
on you ! My, but you are jest cut out for a jour¬ 
nalist ! ” were the flattering ejaculations with which 
he interspersed Elijah’s recital. 

“ Could n’t be better,” he declared at the close. 
“ This ’ll knock out The Bee , if anything will. 
This ’ll put The Citizen right in the lead. What 
a magnificent notion ! How did it ever strike 
you ? We ’ll call it the Citizen’s ticket, and so ad¬ 
vertise the name of the paper. Eh ? ” 


P. T. GETS INTO TROUBLE. 


59 


This strain of hearty congratulation Mr. Hack- 
erman kept up through the remainder of his visit, 
which was not prolonged, and Elijah saw no suit¬ 
able opportunity to go back to the unsatisfactory 
financial arrangements. “ Well, anyway,” he con¬ 
soled himself after the Great Starter had gone, 
“ no one can accuse me of going into this work for 
the money there is in it — at least, not for a 
month. And it is a very interesting way to spend 
one’s vacation, anyhow.” 

That was a very busy afternoon. No sooner 
had P. T. finished his first job—some letter-heads 
for Goodman and Bailey, grocers — than another 
came in. It was for Mr. Hoffman, who was going 
off early the next morning on a business trip, and 
had discovered that he was out of business cards, 
and he wanted some printed at once and taken 
down to his house that very evening. And so, 
while P. T. worked cheerily away on that job, 
Elijah himself took the compositor’s stick and pro¬ 
ceeded to “set up” items for next week’s Citizen. 

It was the first typesetting he had done since 
his boyhood’s playtime, and he had to learn all 
over again the position of the letters in the case, 
so that his work was exceedingly slow, and the 
proofs which he frequently took showed many a 
blunder ; but everything connected with this “ art 
beautiful ” was so attractive to Elijah that the 
afternoon seemed to pass like a few brief minutes, 


60 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 

and he looked up in amazement when P. T., hav¬ 
ing printed his last bit of pasteboard, asked him 
whether he should take the cards to Mr. Hoffman 
after supper or before. 

“ Why, is it that late ? How short the after¬ 
noon has been! Yes, P. T., you ’d better go with 
them now, though it is a long walk. But he’s a 
man who will appreciate promptness, and we can 
keep your supper waiting for you.” And so he 
gave P. T. his directions for reaching Mr. Hoff¬ 
man’s, whose house was just outside of town, and 
turned again to his fascinating employment. 

At last, when the rapidly increasing darkness 
admonished him that it was getting very late, 
Elijah laid down his composing-stick with a sigh, 
and went home to his evening meal. “ I ’d rather 
set type than eat, any day,” said he to Florence, 
as that young lady came to meet him. 

“ And where is P. T. ? ” she asked him, after 
hearing his account of Mr. Hackerman’s visit and 
listening with sympathetic interest to his story of 
the call on Mr. Jarvis. 

“ O, he will be here soon,” answered Elijah. 
“ We ’ll not wait supper for him. He went to 
Mr. Hoffman’s to take him some cards he had just 
printed.” 

But P. T. did not get there soon. Supper was 
over, and long over, when Elijah thought of him 
again. It was very dark. Was it possible P. T. 


P. T. GETS INTO TROUBLE . 


6 


had lost his way ? The road to Mr. Hoffman’s 
was not very direct. 

While Florence and he were wondering about 
it, there came a sharp ring at the doorbell and 
they heard an excited young voice in the hall. 

“Yes. Young Mr. Tone. Elijah Tone. I must 
see him right away. Quick ! ” 

And Elijah, going out, found two boys of his 
own Sunday-school class. Both of them talked at 
once. 

“ Hurry up or he ’ll be murdered, I ’m afraid 
—.” “ — your hunchback—.” “We heard him 
screaming and we ran —.” “ They were dragging 

him by one arm and one foot. We saw them 
go—.” 

“ What ! P. T. in trouble ? And you know 
where he is ? Come on, boys ! ” 

“You ’ll need a lantern, sir. They carried him 
off down into the glen,” cried the two boys. 

“ I ’ll get the lantern, Elijah,” said Florence, 
“ and you must have father go with you, too.” 
With that she ran off for the lantern, while Elijah, 
recognizing the prudence of his sister’s advice, 
made haste to get his father’s aid in the danger¬ 
ous expedition. 


62 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE CASE OF TEDDY MASON. 

It was not without a little persuasion that Mr. 
Tone was induced to accompany Elijah. 

‘‘Just as I expected,” he grumbled. “This 
silly newspaper business ' is getting you into all 
manner of trouble.” But when he understood the 
need, he hurried out of his slippers and into his 
shoes with an alacrity that startled his son. 

“ The scoundrels ! ” he exclaimed. “To attack 
in that way a poor little hunchback ! I ’d like to 
get my hands on them.” 

“ How did you happen to see them, Ned ? ” 
asked Elijah of one of the boys, as all four 
hastened off through the darkness, followed by 
Mrs. Tone’s pleading, “ Now, do be careful! ” 

“Why, Jim and me was coming back from fish¬ 
ing. We’d been down in the glen and had good 
luck, and I ran so I lost all my bass, and so did 
Jim, every one of them, and just as we was coming 
up over the cliff we heard a scream —.” 

“No, Ned,” interrupted Jim, “I heard one at 
the foot of the hill, plain as day, don’t you remem- 


THE CASE OF TEDDY MASON. 63 

ber ? and you thought it was an owl or some¬ 
thing.” 

“And we looked over toward the edge of the 
quarry,” continued Ned, disdaining the interrup¬ 
tion, “and we saw two men — it was too dark to 
see who they was — 

“ One of ’em was tall, and one was short.” 

“And they was dragging along your hunch¬ 
back, and he was screaming and kicking, and his 
screams got kind of muffled, as if they’d tied up 
his mouth, and —.” 

“ And they carried him off down over the cliffs,” 
said Jim, finishing the story, to Ned’s intense 
disgust. 

“ The scoundrels ! ” Mr. Tone repeated, his teeth 
set close together. 

“ If this town were decently governed,” Elijah 
could not help putting in, though he was getting 
out of breath with the steady trot they were keep¬ 
ing up, “ such a thing would n’t happen.” 

“ Governed fiddlesticks! ” was his father’s an¬ 
swer. 

The small boys were puffing and panting, and 
the pace had to be slackened. Still they kept on 
at a good smart walk. They were hastening to a 
long and deep glen cut in the soft limestone by 
a gentle stream, now evidently greatly shrunk 
from its dimensions in former ages. This glen 
was bounded by steep cliffs, down over which there 


6 4 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


were only a few practicable paths. The lonely road 
which P. T. had been compelled to take extended 
for some distance parallel to the glen and quite 
near it, and thus the seizure had been easy. 

Arrived at the quarry, whose yawning chasm 
seemed in the starlight to reach down to infinite 
depths, Ned and Jim, speaking in whispers, directed 
their course around its farthest end, where, back 
of an abandoned shanty, a series of narrow steps 
had been cut down the cliffs to a spring at the 
base. 

“ They went down here,” whispered Ned, his 
whisper shaking suspiciously. Indeed, even Elijah 
and Mr. Tone felt a quiver of fear as they stood 
there at the edge of the great ledge and gazed 
blankly into the black depths beloW, silent except 
for the frogs that hooted from the marshy banks 
of the little stream in the bottom, or the solemn 
call of some lonely owl. 

“ Shall we shout ? ” asked Elijah. 

“ No,” whispered his father. “ P. T. is probably 
gagged and cannot answer, even if he was left near 
here, and our shouting would simply draw atten¬ 
tion to us.” 

They groped their way to the rough stone steps, 
uneven when new, and now affording no adequate 
support for the feet. The branches of the bushes, 
whose tangled mass overarched the path, furnished 
additional assistance in the descent. 


THE CASE OF TEDDY MASON. 


65 


Reaching the foot of the cliff, Elijah’s lantern 
showed the fresh print of feet in the soft mud 
around the little spring, and the direction next 
taken by the captors was readily made out. It 
was to the right, up under the overhanging lime¬ 
stone walls in which the rushing waters of the 
ancient river that once filled the vast chasm had 
cut a long groove. The roof of this natural corri¬ 
dor was dripping with moisture from above, and 
the rocky floor was littered with blocks of stone 
that had been torn off by the frosts of many a 
winter. The lantern cast big, jumping shadows 
on the stone wall, and on the trees and bushes to 
the left. 

Suddenly this corridor ended, and they came out 
into a square recess in the cliff, running back fully 
thirty feet, and extending along the cliff for twice 
as far. It was a natural council-chamber of the 
glen, open to the sky, but secluded from all intru¬ 
sion save the starlight. Two low trees grew in 
the centre, and near them was a huge rock left be¬ 
hind on the recession of the rest of the cliff. Ex¬ 
cept these, the space was bare. 

It was carpeted, however, by a thick turf in 
which no footprint would leave a visible trace, and 
Elijah was at a loss. He searched in vain for a 
clew to guide their further progress, swinging the 
lantern now in this direction, now in that. 

Following its flickering light, Mr. Tone’s eyes 


66 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


caught sight of something, and he sprang to one 
of the trees in the centre of the open space. 

“ Here he is ! ” he said. “ And, heavens ! is he 
dead ? ” 

Poor P. T. was tied to the tree by a rope drawn 
cruelly tight. As its strands were cut, his head 
dropped forward, and his body fell limp into Eli¬ 
jah’s arms. 

Laying him on the ground, Elijah felt with a 
trembling hand for his heart. 

“ Thank God, he is not dead! ” he said in a low 
tone. 

“ He has only fainted,” said Mr. Tone. “ Prob¬ 
ably the rascals beat him inhumanly. He might 
easily have died if you boys had not fortunately 
heard his cries.” 

While Mr. Tone removed the foul rag that had 
been used as a gag, and tenderly chafed the dwarf’s 
hands and rubbed his chest, Elijah made all haste 
to the spring after some water. P. T., however, 
had opened his eyes before Elijah returned, and 
had even begun to talk a little. 

“Yes, they whipped me,” he said feebly. 
“ They called me all sorts of bad names. They 
put a notice on the tree.” 

This Mr. Tone found and deciphered when 
Elijah came back with the lantern. It was printed 
in rough, scraggly letters, and read, “ This is the 
way weer goin’ to treet all the medlesum gang you 
belong to.” 


THE CASE OF TEDDY MASQAT. ' 67 


“ That means you, Elijah,” said Mr. Tone. 

“ Could you tell anything about who they 
were?” asked Elijah, when the bathing seemed to 
have restored P. T.a little. 

“ Not a thing, it was so dark, and they had a 
dark lantern, and they had tied handkerchiefs 
around the bottoms of their faces. And they 
did n’t speak to each other at all.” 

“ Now can you get up ? Can you walk ? ” asked 
Elijah, after they had used all the water he had 
brought. 

The poor little fellow tried, but he groaned, “ O, 
my back! my back! ” and fell again into Mr. 
Tone’s arms. 

“The scoundrels!” Mr. Tone found some re¬ 
lief in exclaiming once more. “ The miserable 
wretches! ” 

There was nothing for it but to lift the hunch¬ 
back and carry him back through the rough, slab- 
strewn, rocky corridor, and up the steep and 
difficult stone steps, and all the long way home. 

It was slow work, and, be careful as they might, 
still many a groan was forced from the lips of the 
sufferer. Ned and Jim were eager in their en¬ 
treaties to be allowed to help, but they could only 
hold back the bushes and carry the lantern. Once 
on the road, however, Mr. Tone sent them ahead 
for the doctor. 

It was a long and toilsome way, because, though 


68 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


the dwarf’s weight was slight, he had to be borne 
with the greatest of care and very slowly, since 
the least jar gave him a paroxysm of pain. On 
the road Mr. Tone had little to say, though once 
in a while Elijah could hear him mutter, “ The 
scoundrels!” But just as they turned the corner 
of the street on which they lived, Mr. Tone dryly 
remarked, “ On second thoughts, Elijah, I think 
we had better have a town government that will 
stop such things as this ”; and Elijah saw that 
The Citizen had one more adherent. 

When P. T.’s poor humped body was laid on 
Elijah’s bed, his face was almost as white as the 
clean white sheet, and the doctor looked grave as 
he examined him. “ Even if he had as good a 
body as the rest of us,” said the doctor, “ such a 
beating as he received would have been a severe 
shock. And as it is — he shook his head 
soberly. 

All that night Elijah watched by the side of 
the suffering hunchback. At first P. T. seemed 
lost in a stupor, but at midnight a delirium came 
upon him, and his body twitched, and great drops 
of perspiration appeared upon his face as, living 
over again the scene he had just passed through, 
he cried out for mercy from his assailants. Then 
Elijah gave him the opiate the physician left, and 
P. T. fell into a heavy slumber till the morning. 

In the morning his condition was such as to 


THE CASE OF TEDDY MASON. 69 

warrant the greatest anxiety, and so for several 
days he continued quite on the border-line between 
life and death. 

But P. T. was not thus rudely to he snatched 
from the world that had proved so harsh to him. 
The doctor said his recovery was due largely to 
Florence’s devoted nursing. Elijah spent all the 
time he could by the bedside of his foreman, but 
he had to take that foreman’s place and do his 
work in addition to his own, and that made busy 
days for him. Florence, however, made all the 
long hours in the sick-room bright with her cheery 
presence, and Ben came often, as well, with the 
sunshine of his merry face. Altogether, they suc¬ 
ceeded so well that P. T. declared, one day, “ I 
don’t know what those wretches meant to do with 
me that night, but anyway they have sent me to 
paradise.” 

As you may imagine, this whole affair added 
fresh fuel to the already fierce flame of Elijah’s 
zeal for a better town government and civic life. 
It came only as the climax of a long series of high¬ 
handed deeds, which the mayor and other authori¬ 
ties had allowed to go without investigation or any 
attempt at punishment. Elijah wrote a burning 
account of the matter for The Citizen. Merely 
pointing out the evident fact that such an attack 
on a newcomer was not aimed at him, but at the 
paper with which he was connected, he spent the 


70 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


entire force of his indignant invectives in holding 
up to public scorn the inefficiency of a town gov¬ 
ernment which permitted such things to happen 
without seeking to convict their perpetrators, and 
upon the sluggishness of a community that per¬ 
mitted itself to be so misgoverned. 

Only a day or two after the publication of this 
number of The Citizen , which aroused much com¬ 
ment, the attention of our young reformer was 
forcibly turned in still another direction, by an 
event which would appear tragical enough if it 
were not, alas 1 so very common. 

Teddy Mason was a lad who lived next door to 
Elijah, and his sister Alice was Florence’s “best 
friend.” Now Alice and her widowed mother had 
one great grief. Therefore Florence had one 
great grief, too; it was Teddy. For Teddy, 
though a bright and loving boy, and though he 
was quite sixteen years of age, was one of those 
fellows with receding chins. That is, he was weak 
in will, and ready to go anywhere at the beck of 
anybody, provided the promise of fun was made in 
sufficiently extravagant terms. 

Now one evening, as Elijah returned to a late 
supper after a hard day’s work (P. T. being still 
confined to his bed), Florence met him with red 
eyes, and told a tale of woe. Alice Mason and her 
mother were in the deepest distress, for Teddy 
had been reported to them as drunk — something 


THE CASE OF TEDDY MASON. 


71 


that for all his wildness had never happened to 
him before. He had been seen reeling from Hans 
Doppelheimer’s saloon to Bill Malony’s, talking 
maudlin talk, and singing, when he could for the 
hiccoughs. 

“Where are you going, Elijah, without your 
supper?” asked Mrs. Tone, as her son took up his 
hat which he had just laid down. 

“ I am going to get the marshal, and have Bill 
Malony arrested for selling liquor to minors, and I 
am going to bring Teddy Mason home to his 
mother.” 


72 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A VERY EFFICIENT MARSHAL. 

Before Elijah, with this purpose hot within 
him, had gone a square, he met the man of all men 
he would most like to have met, Mr. Jarvis. 

“ O Mr. Jarvis ! ” he cried, “ I have on hand a 
bit of work that needs your help. A neighbor’s 
boy has got drunk and is in one of the saloons. I 
am going to get him out and have the saloon¬ 
keeper arrested for selling to minors. Will you 
help me ? ’ 

“Why, how could I refuse ?” answered Mr. Jar¬ 
vis. “ But who in this town will arrest a saloon¬ 
keeper ? ” 

“The marshal will. The marshal must. I ’ll 
not go to the mayor about it this time, I promise 
you. Let ’s see Marshal Peters, and let ’s hurry, 
for every minute means deadly peril to that poor 
boy.” 

Cal Peters kept a little fruit-store in the centre 
of the town — that is, his wife kept it, while he, 
under cover of being “ city marshal,” loafed about 
town. His loafing-place was more uncertain than 


A VERY EFFICIENT MARSHAL. 73 

that of the mayor, so Mr. Jarvis and Elijah called 
first at his store. 

“ No,” said pale, worn-out, and discouraged-look¬ 
ing Mrs. Peters, “ he ain’t in, and I reckon he’s at 
Hubbard’s grocery. You, Chris, go run and tell 
your pa two gentlemen want to see him, and hurry 
now.” 

With that a frowzy-headed urchin rose languidly 
from a game of mumbly-peg he was playing in the 
side yard with a boy equally frowzy, and took his 
leisurely way down street to Hubbard’s grocery. 
In a quarter of an hour he came slowly back with 
the information that pa would be there d’rec’ly. 

Greatly disgusted, Mr. Jarvis and Elijah waited 
for fifteen minutes longer, and just as they were 
on the point of going in search of the marshal, 
that functionary sauntered in. He was a man of 
about thirty-five, with a heavy red mustache that 
turned up fiercely over a face always covered with 
a bristly stubble of the same fierce hue. His 
hands were large, and were carried loosely at his 
side. His whole air was that of a rickety chair, 
the loose ends of cane projecting here and there. 

This formidable officer nodded slouchily to his 
visitors, who, without any preamble, plunged im¬ 
patiently into their errand. 

“Teddy Mason, my neighbor’s boy, has been 
made drunk by one of the saloons in town, and is 
this minute getting drink at another,” said Elijah. 


74 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


“ He is much under age. We want you to go with 
us and arrest the saloon-keeper while we carry 
home the boy.” 

Marshal Peters laughed softly. 

“ O, they ain’t no saloon-keeper in town that 
would sell to minors,” he said, sitting down on 
the counter as if prepared for an argument. 

“ Mr. Tone has just given you the facts in the 
case, sir,” answered Mr. Jarvis sharply. 

“ Well, but law ! I know all the saloon-keepers 
in town,” chuckled Marshal Peters, — and there is 
no doubt he was speaking the truth, — “ and they 
are law-abiding men. Why, there ’s a law again’ 
selling to minors.” 

“We know there is such a law, and we come to 
ask you to enforce it,” spoke up Elijah. “ Now, 
will you ? ” 

“ Of course I will,” answered Peters, seeing his 
chance for virtuous indignation. “ What do you 
take me for ? ” 

“Well, then, will you go with us to arrest Bill 
Malony ? ” asked M.r. Jarvis. 

“ Bill Malony, is it ? O, I ’ll take care of Bill. 
Yes. Don’t you worry. I ’ll take care of Bill.” 

“ We are ready to go, then.” 

“I don’t need no help,” surlily said the marshal. 

“ But we must go along to take Teddy home,” 
urged Elijah. 

“I can’t go now, gentlemen. In fact, I have 


A VERY EFFICIENT MARSHAL. 


75 


an important engagement with Squire Jackson. 
Ought to be there now,” and the marshal looked 
at his watch with a businesslike air. 

“Mr. Peters,” said Mr. Jarvis sternly, “you 
have played with us long enough. Do you intend 
to go with us and make this arrest, or not ? ” 

“ Cal! ” spoke up Mrs. Peters, in a warning 
tone. 

“ Gentlemen, I must say you are very pushin *,” 
whined the marshal. “ I am supposed to know 
the best time to make an arrest myself, I am. 
But if you won’t be satisfied with nothin’ else, I 
suppose I must suit you. But I must send word 
to the squire. He will be awful put out.” 

With that Peters went out into the side yard, 
carefully closing the door behind him, and said a 
few words to one of the little frowzy-headed boys. 
Elijah could see him scamper away at the top of 
his speed. 

“ Gentlemen,” said the marshal, coming slowly 
back, “ I reckon you will excuse me ’f I wait to 
load my pistol. I never go to such a place to 
make an arrest ” — Peters spoke as if that were a 
common occurrence — “ without taking a loaded 
pistol. These saloon men are desprit characters.” 

“ You just now said they were law-abiding citi¬ 
zens,” Elijah could not resist saying; but Peters 
had no ears for the remark. 

Marshal Peters seemed to find much difficulty 


76 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


in loading his pistol. The barrel did not at all 
please him. He squinted through it long and 
earnestly, and then began solemnly to clean it with 
an oily rag. Then he had infinite trouble to find 
cartridges of the right sort and size. 

“ Let me help you,” said Elijah impatiently. 

“ No, you don’t know nothing about this ’ere 
pistol. This is a queer-fashioned pistol, this is. 
That’s why it takes me so long to fix it up.” 

“ But I am afraid we may find Teddy gone, and 
then we shall have no proof against Malony,” 
Elijah insisted. 

“ Don’t you worry. Malony ’ll keep,” answered 
Peters, puffing out his lip with the big red mus¬ 
tache on it. 

He was so very deliberate that the frowzy-headed 
youngster had returned before he had finished. 
“What did the squire say?” demanded the mar¬ 
shal, sticking his head out into the yard. 

“ He said, ‘ All right ’,” answered the boy. 

“Well then, gentlemen, now as I have settled 
my previous engagement, I can go with you,” said 
Peters, picking up his pistol, sticking it in his 
pocket, and leading the way with a swagger to Bill 
Malony’s saloon. 

This saloon was on a street near by, and was 
probably the worst — if there can be any degrees 
of evil in a thing so vile — of the four wretched 
saloons supported by the little college town. It 


A VERY EFFICIENT MARSHAL. 77 

was a front room of a two-story house, the rear 
portions of which served as Bill Malony’s dwell¬ 
ing. A green screen stood before the open door, 
and it was with a palpitating heart that, even on 
the holy errand upon which he was bent, Elijah 
for the first time went back of that screen and into 
a saloon. 

A rough bar occupied one side of the little room, 
and back of it were a few bottles and kegs on some 
rickety shelves. There was nothing elegant, or 
even ordinarily decent, in the furnishings of this 
“gilded saloon.” The entire plant might have cost 
fifty dollars. It does n’t take much of a man, meas¬ 
ured financially, — or in any other way, — to start 
a saloon. The air was thick and choking with 
tobacco smoke. Standing in front of the counter, 
or tipping back on the four wooden chairs that 
surrounded the rough pine table in the corner, 
was a choice selection of the village loafers and 
“toughs,” — black and white, American, Irish, and 
German, Protestant and Catholic, — for the devil, 
at least, is ready to fraternize with all races and 
nationalities and creeds. 

The men around the table were engaged in a 
game of cards, and sport seemed to be running 
high, judging from the loud guffaw that burst out 
as the marshal entered with our two reformers. 

Elijah at once looked around anxiously for 
Teddy. He saw him immediately, among the 


yS ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 

group of men at the counter. His face was white 
and his voice thick. He was mumbling out: “I 
won’t have it. It ’zh baby drink. Gimme s’m 
whiskey.” 

“ Well, Bill Malony, I guess you are my man,” 
said the marshal in a bold voice, stepping toward 
that personage, who stood in his shirt-sleeves be¬ 
hind the bar. 

“ Faith, an’ what may the gentleman mane ? ” 
suavely inquired Bill Malony. 

“ He means that you are under arrest for selling 
liquor to minors,” broke in Elijah, unable longer 
to restrain himself. 

“An’ begorra, who ’s the minor here?” inno¬ 
cently asked the saloon-keeper. “ Is it you, Tim 
Fogarty, an’ you nivver tould a body ? ” 

At this sally there was, of course, a roar of 
laughter from all his customers. 

“The minor,” broke in Mr. Jarvis sternly, “is 
that young fellow there,” pointing to Teddy, who 
stood wagging his head from side to side and leer¬ 
ing at the ceiling. “He is only sixteen years old, 
and you shall smart for it — selling liquor to a boy 
like that — and the son of a widow, too.” 

“ Who ’s been selling liquor to Teddy Mason ? ” 
cried Malony in a shocked voice. “ Sure, he ought 
to feel the law on him, so he ought. But nary a 
drop of the drink has he got from Bill Malony the 
day.” 


A VERY EFFICIENT MARSHAL. 


79 


“ No drink ? ” asked Mr. Jarvis. “ Why, look at 
him. Don’t you see he is beastly drunk ? ” 

“ O, he ’s jist a leetle pleasant-like,” explained 
Malony, winking at the group around the card- 
table ; “ but he could n’t get drunk on lemonade, 
you know.” 

At this the entire roomful burst into a tumult 
of cackling laughter, and Mr. Jarvis and Elijah, 
looking for the first time at the glasses which stood 
on the bar and the table, saw that their coming 
was evidently expected. 

All those glasses were full of lemonade. 


8o 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


CHAPTER IX. 

ELDER JARVIS HAS TROUBLE IN HIS CHURCH. 

Elijah turned fiercely upon the marshal, who 
stood grinning at him. The laughter was hushed 
to hear what he would say. 

“ This is your doing, Cal Peters,” he said hotly; 
“ you sent word and warned him. Now I see why 
you were so anxious about Squire Jackson. Now 
I see why you waited for your boy to come back. 
Now I see why it took you so long to clean that 
pistol. Much you expected to use it! ” 

“ Look here, young feller,” drawled out the mar¬ 
shal ; “ you ’re sayin’ what ’ll get you into trouble 
’f you don’t ca’m down a leetle.” 

“ Keep still, Elijah,” advised Mr. Jarvis. “ It 
won’t do any good. Get Teddy, and we will go. 
As for you, Malony, don’t think that this is an end 
of the matter, or that your devilish work will long 
be tolerated. It makes my blood boil to see the 
condition of that lad yonder, and to think of the 
poor mother to whom we must take him. And 
you men,”—turning to the grinning groups about 
the card-table and at the bar, — “ if the accursed 


ELDER JARVIS HAS TROUBLE . 81 

drink had left a spark of manhood in you, you 
would n’t sit still and see this fiendish work going 
on ; yes, and help in it the way you do.” 

In the mean time Elijah was trying to lead 
Teddy away, and in this effort he succeeded in 
spite of his drunken protests. Elijah taking one 
arm and Mr. Jarvis the other, they guided his 
wavering feet homeward. 

I have not the heart to picture the scene as the 
heartbroken mother and sister received the ruined 
boy. Scarcely will any one read this story to 
whom the terrible picture will not be vivid enough 
without words, since it has already been burned in 
upon the mind by the bitter experience of their 
own mother or sister or neighbor or friend. 

Just now it concerns us, rather, to note the ef¬ 
fect of this incident upon our hero and upon the 
progress of our story. 

The list of signatures to the call inviting Mr. 
Jarvis to be candidate for the mayoralty had not 
grown very fast during P. T.’s illness, but that 
illness itself, and the cause which led to it, and es¬ 
pecially his failure with the marshal and the saloon¬ 
keeper, had roused Elijah’s already fiery indignation 
against the town officers and their regime to a 
white heat, and he now made it a point to drop 
his rapidly increasing work for two hours every 
day, and go from house to house, from store to 
store, with that paper and with his urgent pleadings. 


82 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


He was given a varied reception. Some of the 
best men received him coolly, being piqued that so 
young a man — one who that fall would cast his 
first vote — should take the lead in a matter of so 
great importance. Elijah felt this difficulty, and 
effaced himself as much as possible wherever he 
could, getting the townspeople themselves to circu¬ 
late the paper among their neighbors; but never¬ 
theless there was many an objection which he 
had to combat in person. “ Things have been go¬ 
ing on well enough, for all I see,” some declared. 
“ Bill Downs’s poverty-stricken family need the 
fees he gets,” urged others. “ It ’s no use; the 
lower element are in the majority, and they would 
outvote us,” said still others. There were those 
who had business interests closely entangled with 
the firm friends of the present administration. 
There were those who ridiculed Mr. Jarvis as a 
book man, who knew nothing about practical poli¬ 
tics. There were those who wanted to think it 
over — indefinitely. There were the out-and-out 
friends of Bill Downs, who were angry and abu¬ 
sive. 

And yet, in spite of all, a very few days of this 
systematic work rolled up the list of hearty, eager 
signatures to the call until it numbered more than 
one hundred and fifty, and Elijah could carry it 
proudly to Mr. Jarvis and claim his promise. 

“ Elijah,” said that gentleman, “ after our ex- 


ELDER JARVIS HAS TROUBLE. 83 

perience in the saloon the other day, I would have 
run for mayor whether a single man signed that 
call or not. My blood is up, I tell you, and I see 
the need of some man’s doing his duty in this 
town. But I let you go ahead and get your list 
because of its effect in rousing interest and win¬ 
ning backers. You have done nobly. Good gov¬ 
ernment already has a strong force of friends here, 
as I knew it had, and as it has everywhere. It 
only needs a leader; and that, with God’s help, 
and just at this crisis, I will be.” 

Their experience with Peters had shown them 
the imperative need of further nominations if Mr. 
Jarvis was to effect any reform, even if elected. 
What could a decent mayor do with such a mar¬ 
shal ? Therefore it was determined to call a citi¬ 
zens’ caucus for the nomination of a complete 
ticket. 

“ But the worst element will pack the caucus,” 
objected Elijah. 

“ If they beat us there, they could beat us at the 
polls, and we should deserve to be beaten at the 
polls,” was Mr. Jarvis’s ready reply. 

Of course, all this was reported in The Danford 
Citizen. Faithfully and graphically the entire affair 
at the saloon was chronicled. Marshal Peters made 
— to his cronies — a blustering threat of suing 
The Citizen for libel, but Elijah was not afraid, for 
every word of his editorial had been weighed by 


8 4 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


Mr. Jarvis and himself, and nothing had been re¬ 
tained, however great the temptation, which could 
possibly substantiate a charge of libel. Every 
statement made or implied was perfectly true. 

Of course, also, the biggest of type and the most 
earnest of words were employed to advertise the 
desired change in the office of mayor. The call 
was published with its long list of signatures, each 
name an argument. The coming caucus soon be¬ 
came the leading topic of public interest. 

In Mr. Jarvis’s church the comment was ani¬ 
mated and varied. Mr. Jarvis and Elijah chanced 
to belong to the same church, the former being 
one of the elders, and the latter at that time presi¬ 
dent of the Christian Endeavor society. It must 
be confessed that the candidate for mayor had 
given no thought to the views of his course that 
might be taken by his church people. He was so 
certain he was right that it never occurred to him 
to fear the opposition of good men. Nevertheless, 
just such opposition came to him. 

“Nathan,” said Mrs. Jarvis to him one day at 
dinner, “ old Miss Rummage was here this morn¬ 
ing, and she told some of the meanest things she 
had heard our church people say about you: that 
it was n’t becoming in a ruling elder to engage in 
politics, and that you were hurting your influence 
in the church, and stirring up strife among the 
brethren, and alienating people from the church, 


ELDER JARVIS HAS TROUBLE . 85 


and I don’t know what all. I just sat there and 
ground my teeth.” 

“ Miss Rummage’s visits usually are hard on 
your teeth, mother,” laughed Ben. 

“And I don’t wonder,” added Mr. Jarvis, “for 
she certainly is a mischief-making gossip. But 
don’t worry. You know how things grow under 
the lens of her imagination. I presume she made 
it all up.” 

That very night at prayer meeting,‘however, Mr. 
Jarvis had proof that old Miss Rummage had some 
foundation for her pleasant tittle-tattle. 

Probably the matter would never have come up 
in that staid prayer meeting had it not been for 
Parson Holworthy’s subject, which was, “ The 
Christian and the State.” He took for the Scrip¬ 
ture passage the scene where Christ calls for a 
penny and bids his disciples render to Caesar the 
things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that 
are God’s. Mr. Holworthy emphasized the point 
that Christ’s command to do our duty to Caesar is 
just as binding upon us as his command to do our 
duty to God. 

“ It was while Joseph and Mary were performing 
a duty they owed to the state,” urged Mr. Hol¬ 
worthy, “that they were honored above all mankind 
in the birth of the Saviour. That Saviour, when a 
young man, — and, alas ! he never became an old 
man,—wept tears, the grief and bitter anguish of 


86 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


a patriot, over the city whose doom he saw so 
clearly written. Yet we call ourselves his fol¬ 
lowers, though our dry eyes and hard hearts have 
never been touched by our nation’s woe, though 
the peril of our cities finds us unmoved before the 
disclosure of it, and though, last and crowning 
disgrace, we think to perform by proxy those civic 
duties which no man can honestly delegate to an¬ 
other, and which no other could perform for him 
if he might delegate them.” 

There was much more to the same effect, which 
was listened to with careful attention by the un¬ 
usually large number of men present. But when 
the meeting was “thrown open,” old Sandy Mc¬ 
Pherson slowly lifted his six feet of height from 
the front row of chairs, and turned upon the com¬ 
pany a stern and forbidding countenance. Sandy’s 
eyes flashed from the deep hollows back of the 
square-bowed spectacles, and it was evident that 
the old Scotchman, who never hesitated to speak 
all of his mind on any occasion, had a good bit of 
it to speak on the present one. 

“ Brithers and sisters,” he began, speaking slowly 
and impressively, with many a leisurely “ hem ! ” 
“ I would na for a’ the world contradeect the meen- 
ister. He has builded upoun the everlasting foun¬ 
dation of the law and the Gospils. But we have in 
our meedst the callow youth,” — here he looked 
at Elijah, — “ who are na so judeecious in their in- 


ELDER JARVIS HAS TROUBLE. 87 

terpretation of Screepture as the meenister is, and 
who take an ell whenever they are geeven an 
inch. 

“ Noo the Maister that bid us render unto Caesar 
those things that be Caesar’s did also inspire the 
apostle Paul to exhort us,‘ Come ye out fra’ among 
them and be ye separate from them, saith the 
Lord. ’ Which does na furnish warrant, accord¬ 
ing to my exegesis, for a professor to consort with 
the ungodly or strive with the same for the vain 
shows of worldly preferment, seeking the upper¬ 
most place at the feast and the loftiest office in 
the veelage. Na, na. We maun pay our taxes, 
as the Maister bid us, but he did na say that we 
should go to Rome and try to drive Caesar fra’ his 
throne. 

“ I have yet to hear ” — and this was spoken 
with great sarcasm —“ that our Lord and Maister, 
Jesus Christ, tip-toed into a landau, and, preceded 
by a brass band and followed by a company of yell¬ 
ing sycophants, drove through the streets 0’ Jeru¬ 
salem preparatory to making a poleetical speech in 
front of the pretorium. 

“ I ha’e my doots, mairover, concerning a’ this 
palaver about our coontry, our coontry, our coon- 
try. We followers of the meek and lowly One are 
set to seek a better coontry, that is, a heavenly. 
It does na behoove us, brithren and sisters, us in 
whose ee should be shining the foregleams of the 


88 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


city that needs na the licht of the sun nor moon, 
to be wasting the powers of immortal souls upon 
these cities where moth and rust do corrupt and 
where thieves break through and steal. Come ye 
out fra’ among them, and be ye separate from them, 
saith the Lord.” With this triumphant reiteration 
and a stern glance toward Mr. Jarvis, Sandy Mc¬ 
Pherson sat down. 

A rustle passed through the little company, and 
many an eye was turned to see how Mr. Jarvis and 
Elijah received this plain reproof. Mr. Symonds, 
in whose hands was left the selection of hymns 
after the minister had opened the meeting, an¬ 
nounced “ How firm a foundation,” but no one 
found the place, for at the same instant Mr. Jarvis 
arose. 


THE YOUNG FOLKS NOT LEFT OUT 89 


CHAPTER X. 

THE YOUNG FOLKS DON’T PROPOSE TO BE LEFT 
OUT. 

Mr. Jarvis began slowly and gently. 

“ I don’t rise,” said he, “ to dispute our Brother 
McPherson’s remarks, which contain much truth. 
The Christian’s kingdom, like his Lord’s, is not of 
this world. But, at the same time, that same 
Lord in his last prayer with his disciples said, ‘ I 
pray not that thou shouldst take them out of the 
world, but that thou shouldst keep them from the 
evil.’ We are to fight Paul’s good fight against 
the rulers of the darkness of this world, against 
spiritual wickedness in high places. 

“ Take, for example, the case of the approach¬ 
ing contest in this village, which, it is fair to pre¬ 
sume, suggested both to our pastor and to Brother 
McPherson the remarks we have listened to with 
so much profit. Certainly no one here will ad¬ 
mit that Christ is ruling in the affairs of this 
town. The very implication would be a blas¬ 
phemy. But ” — and here Mr. Jarvis’s voice grew 
earnest and his face grew resolute — “ but He 


90 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


should rule. His invisible Spirit should preside 
at every council meeting. His authority should 
be regarded at every trial before mayor or justice. 
Every arrest that is made, or every refraining 
from making an arrest, should be at his command. 
What Christian will doubt this ? 

\ “ If Christ were ruler of this town, think you 
our four saloons, those open doors of hell, would 
endure a single night ? Think you that lawless¬ 
ness would go unchecked and goodness be made 
a mockery in public print and private scoff ? 

“ And who is to set Christ over the affairs of 
our village ? Who but his followers ? Certainly 
if they hold back from doing it, the evil-minded 
will be slow to raise his banner over them and 
establish his throne. 

“ And how can we do it save by taking part in 
village politics ? We can set up his altar at our 
homes and here in the church, but that is not to 
set it up at the ballot-box. We can write his 
name upon our hearts, but that is not to inscribe 
it on the statute-book of this town. 

“ God knows that I enter with shrinking upon 
the task I have undertaken. I shall not call out 
the brass band or let my name be shouted. But 
I count myself a servant of the Lord, and I believe 
that he wants me to do this thing. 

“ To minister to the general interests of a com¬ 
munity, presiding over its courts of law and its 


THE YOUNG FOLKS NOT LEFT OUT. 91 

public schools, making fair and clean its streets, 
guarding the health of the village, providing for 
the common comfort and safety — such offices 
as these are in their very nature honorable, and 
should be held, as our fathers held them, next in 
reverence to the sacred ministry of the gospel. 
Yet not only in this town, but in thousands upon 
thousands of communities all over our beloved 
land, we have for so long relegated these honor¬ 
able duties to dishonorable men that they have be¬ 
come dishonorable in our eyes, and it has seemed 
a pollution for a Christian to assume them. 

“ I know myself, brethren, to be far from the 
best man for the high post of mayor, but with 
God’s help I shall, if elected, at least make that 
post respectable, so that the best men may be will¬ 
ing to take it. And small though my powers are, 
they shall be yielded up to the all-powerful One, 
who will then sit in authority over this village. 

“ And this purpose seems to me to be just and 
right, and worthy the assistance of all who honor 
the name of Christ.” 7 

A general murmur of approval spread through 
the room as Mr. Jarvis sat down, and several men 
sprung to their feet at once. Before indicating 
any one of them, Parson Holworthy had a word 
to say himself. 

“ I trust, brothers and sisters, that no one of 
you will think me wrong in provoking this discus- 


92 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


sion and permitting its continuance. This is a 
meeting for prayer ; but until we know that we 
have a duty, we are not likely to pray over it with 
much fervor. And I, believing that we have a 
duty as Christians to this village in which we live, 
am desirous that all in this church shall be roused 
to it as thoroughly as is Elder Jarvis. I don’t 
see how any citizen dare undertake his responsible 
task without being a Christian ; but neither do I 
see how any Christian dare refrain from being an 
earnest,, conscientious, active citizen. I think it 
high time that we Christians, as Christians, and 
in the name of our Lord, should bestir ourselves 
to capture this village for Christ. 

“ Now you may not agree with me. Brother 
McPherson here ” — turning with a smile to the 
Scotch worthy, who sat sulkily with his arms 
folded — “ evidently does not agree with me alto¬ 
gether. But certainly this is a matter on which 
this church should make up its mind, and, having 
made up its mind, should act. Now, Brother Hig¬ 
gins, what have you to say ? ” 

Well, Brother Higgins had a great deal to say, 
but he said it very fast, and in sharp, ringing sen¬ 
tences that struck the mark. And so did Brother 
Green have much to say, and Brother Hosmer, 
and Brother DeLacy, and Brother Fanshaw. And 
the voice of each one of them was for Christian 
citizenship, as opposed to what Mr. Green, remem- 


THE YOUNG FOLKS NOT LEFT OUT 93 

bering the parable of the talents, called Christian 
napkinship. The monkish theory of Christianity 
evidently had slight hold upon that church. 

And as, one after another, these men arose and 
pledged themselves to labor hereafter for the com¬ 
mon good as well as for the good of individuals 
and of themselves, to set up Christ’s altar on the 
village green as well as in their private sitting- 
rooms ; and especially as, at the close of the hour, 
fully a score of voices were lifted to God in ear¬ 
nest prayer for his blessing upon the effort for the 
redemption of the town, Mr. Jarvis and Elijah sit¬ 
ting there felt fresh courage and confidence come 
to them, and knew that they were not alone. 

“ There are seven thousand, Elijah,” said Par¬ 
son Holworthy to our hero after the meeting, 
“ seven thousand who have not bowed the knee 
to Baal.” 

Mr. Jarvis went up to Sandy McPherson. “ You 
will be with us yet in this movement,” said he, 
stretching out his hand. 

“ I ’m wi’ ye noo,” answered the sturdy Scotch¬ 
man, “but no’ as a Chreestian. Only in my pri¬ 
vate capacity, mon ! ” and thus Sandy kept his 
colors flying. 

From this prayer meeting several things re¬ 
sulted ; among them this : 

It was at a meeting of the executive committee 
of the Christian Endeavor society. Parson Hoi- 


94 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


worthy was there, of course. They would not 
have considered it a meeting of the executive 
committee without their beloved pastor. And 
after the committee chairmen in turn had told of 
their work, proposed their new plans, brought for¬ 
ward their perplexities, and asked and received 
the suggestions of the others, when it came time 
for the introduction of new business, Mr. Hol- 
worthy addressed Elijah. 

“ Mr. President,” said he, “ I have been wonder¬ 
ing for some time why our society did not have a 
Christian citizenship committee.” 

“ And I,” answered Elijah, “ have been waiting 
for you to suggest it. I knew you would propose 
it to us if you thought it a good thing.” 

“ Thank you ! ” and Mr. Holworthy bowed, with 
a pleased smile. “ And now that I have sug¬ 
gested it, I should like to hear what the committee 
think about it.” 

I “ What could a Christian citizenship committee 
do ? ” asked Susan Walters, chairman of the infor¬ 
mation committee, who should have been better 
posted, but was not. 

“Well,” said Mr. Holworthy, “the work it could 
do depends on the work that needs to be done. 
Here in Danford, for instance, the people, young 
and old, need to be aroused to the duty and re¬ 
sponsibility of Christian citizenship. A great 
struggle is to be fought out between the forces of 


THE YOUNG FOLKS NOT LEFT OUT 95 

good and the forces of evil in this community. I 
have been very glad to see the Christian Endeavor 
movement keep out of partisan politics, but this is 
not partisan politics; men of all parties will be 
found on both sides ; and I can conceive of no 
harm that can come from your society’s aiding 
in every way the Christian troops who will fight 
Christ’s battle at the coming election. It remains 
to be seen just how they will need you, but I am 
sure they will need you.” 

“ I can name one way, at once,” spoke up 
Elijah; “that is, in distributing circulars for our 
citizens’ caucus to be held next Tuesday evening.” 

“Yes,” continued Mr. Holworthy, “and count¬ 
less other ways will suggest themselves. But the 
main work of the committee will be study and 
preparation for the duties of Christian citizenship 
that will come to all of you ; to all of you, I say, for 
the girls, though they may not vote, yet will have 
the rearing of Christian voters, and I know of no 
more important work of citizenship than that."7 

“ I should say that the first thing for you to 
study would be the make-up and workings of your 
own town government. I should advise such a 
committee to hunt up the men in the town that 
are most thoroughly acquainted with the different 
branches of its administration. Then I should set 
apart one evening each week for a meeting at a 
private house — you may have my study, if you 


96 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


wish — to which all the Endeavorers who chose 
might come, and hear from those men hpw each 
part of our town government is, or ought to be, 
carried on.” 

“ Ought to be, I guess, in most cases,” inter¬ 
rupted Elijah. 

“To these meetings I should invite all the other 
Endeavor societies in town, for we must not be 
selfish,” continued Mr. Holworthy, paying no at¬ 
tention to Elijah’s remark, though he smiled his 
assent. 

“ If our town officers are so poor,” asked Will 
Holcomb, “ how could they give us much valuable 
information ? ” 

“ In most cases, I fear,” answered Mr. Hol¬ 
worthy, “ we should have to call in other men. 
Superintendent Hosmer, for instance, who is so 
soon to leave us for the Milton schools, knows all 
about our school committee and the workings of 
our school laws. He would be glad to tell us 
about them, and answer all our questions. Then 
there is Mr. Bolton, who is especially well informed 
on our poor laws, and our excellent assessor, Mr. 
Samson, who can tell us all about taxes, State and 
municipal. Mrs. Barton, the president of our 
W. C. T. U., has the temperance laws of the 
State at her tongue’s end, and I know of no more 
profitable evening than one we might spend with 
her. Mr. Jarvis, as you know, is an eminent 


THE YOUNG FOLKS NOT LEFT OUT. 97 

specialist on city and village government, and he 
would tell us all about our charter and how it 
could be bettered.” 

“ Splendid ! ” exclaimed Will Holcomb. “ I for 
one am heartily in favor of the plan, and I move 
that this executive committee recommend to the 
society the immediate appointment of a Christian 
citizenship committee, to carry on such a course 
of study as our pastor has suggested.” 

“ And to further the cause of Christian citizen¬ 
ship in our community,” put in Susan Walters ; 
“ I second the motion.” 

“ And I want only to add,” said Mr. Holworthy, 
smiling at the manifest enthusiasm, “that the 
little talks and discussions I spoke of should be 
but the prelude to more thorough study, by means 
of books and periodicals, of all the problems that 
the Christian citizen of our day faces and will be 
compelled to solve.” 

Then Elijah put the matter to vote, and the res¬ 
olution was unanimously carried. The project met 
with equal favor at the next society business meet¬ 
ing, which occurred on the following day, and a 
Christian citizenship committee was appointed, 
whose chairman was Ben Jarvis — a committee 
which played no slight part in the events I have 
next to relate. 

In the very first place, so vigorously did they 
advertise the citizens’ caucus to be held the next 


98 


ELIJAH TONE, CITIZEN 


Tuesday, and so zealously did Elijah push the 
matter in the columns of The Citizen and in per¬ 
sonal interviews, that an unprecedented crowd 
came together that night. The meeting was held 
in the long “ exhibition hall ” of the schoolhouse. 
All that day Ben Jarvis and his committee had 
been at work distributing handbills which Elijah 
had printed, and which set forth in strong terms 
the importance of the meeting, and the need of 
the presence of all respectable citizens. 

Elijah was sure of the attendance of the unre¬ 
spectable, and his anticipation was more than real¬ 
ized. “ Why, where do they all come from ? ” he 
whispered to Ben, as by dozens and scores there 
poured into the hall the men of no shirt-collar and 
no bathtub. 

“They will swamp us,” whispered Ben, looking 
ruefully at the two or three lonely gentlemen in 
front of the platform, who now and then turned 
around to gaze in wonder at the pushing, hilarious, 
dirty crowd of white and black behind them. 
Probably no one of those gentlemen had ever 
attended a caucus before, and they looked about 
ready to back out now. 

But Elijah’s spirits soon rose, for in a few min¬ 
utes the business men, who could not arrive as 
early as the loafers, began to come in. And then 
it was the turn of the loafers to become chagrined. 
Such a representation of its best men had never 


THE YOUNG FOLKS NOT LEFT OUT. 99 

before been seen at a Danford primary. They, 
too, came in by dozens and by scores, not slouch¬ 
ing like the first arrivals, but with a grave and 
determined air. 

Mr. Kingman, the leading merchant of the 
town, sat down beside Jake Horton, and Jake’s 
grin vanished from his face, and the vile stories 
with which he had been regaling his comrades 
were hushed into an awed silence; for Jake owed 
Mr. Kingman for a whole quarter’s groceries. 
Professor Fennell came in and sat down beside 
Ebenezer Shoemaker, and that African brother 
straightened up in his seat with new dignity. 
Thus strangely was the audience mingled, and it 
was hard to tell which side had a majority — the 
low, or the respectable, element. Bill Downs was 
there leering at the crowd, and occasionally mak¬ 
ing the rounds of the hall to thump his followers 
familiarly on the back. Marshal Peters was there, 
very important with his brass plate — his badge 
of office — upon his breast. Caspar Griffith was 
there in high glee, leading his “ crowd ” in cat-calls. 

It had been agreed among Mr. Jarvis’s friends 
that Dr. Boynton, president of the college, should 
preside. Accordingly, when the time came to 
begin, Mr. Kingman quietly arose and said, “ Gen¬ 
tlemen, I nominate President Boynton to act as 
our presiding officer for this evening.” 

“ And I second the nomination,” said Elijah. 


100 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


Instantly Caspar Griffith jumped up. “And I 
nominate for the presiding officer Mr. Samuel 
Foster,” naming one of the Danford councilmen 
who kept a drug-store, whose chief revenue, it was 
more than suspected, was derived from the sale of 
liquors on the sly. 

“Second it!” cried Ned Record, his foreman, 
amid much applause and many catcalls. 

“ Well, gentlemen, I will put to vote both 
names,” said Mr. Kingman, proceeding to do so, 
and appointing Mayor Downs as one of the tellers 
to count the uplifted hands. 

Elijah watched the vote with great anxiety. 
It was a test of preponderance. He was greatly 
relieved, therefore, when the tellers, having called 
for a second vote that they might come to an 
agreement on their count, reported Dr. Boynton 
chosen by a majority of thirty-two. 

The chairman elect ascended the platform. He 
was a tall and powerfully built man, with the face 
and voice of an orator. His dignified bearing, 
however, did not overawe Caspar Griffith and his 
minions. They greeted him with a storm of 
ironical applause, mingled with hisses and loud 
whistles and hootings vociferous. 

The president raised his hand for silence, — and 
got it. 

“ Gentlemen,” he began, «this meeting has 
been called—” 


THE YOUNG FOLKS NOT LEFT OUT 101 


But just at that moment Ned Record, who sat 
in the back of the room beside an open window, 
waved his hat to some one outside. Instantly 
there arose, from the playground below, the loud 
playing of the village band. With the first strains 
of its blaring music, the “ toughs ” gained courage, 
and burst out once more in a round of contemptu¬ 
ous hand-clapping, feet-stamping, and triumphant 
yells. Ned Record waved his hat again, and the 
band played more loudly still. President Boyn¬ 
ton’s goodly voice was completely drowned. 


102 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


CHAPTER XI. 

ELIJAH MAKES HIS MARK IN CHALK. 

It soon became clear that the band outside and 
the howls within were victorious over the meeting. 
At that instant Mr. Sandy McPherson, who had 
come in late and occupied an observant seat near 
the door, quietly rose and went out. He took the 
stairs two steps at a time, and in a very few seconds 
his long form towered up before the musicians in 
the yard below. 

Their flaring torches cast but an uncertain light 
outside the circle of the band,* and each man was 
intent on making as much noise as he could, 
cheeks puffed out, and face red with exertion and 
suppressed laughter. So it was that the first inti¬ 
mation they had of Mr. McPherson’s presence was 
his exclamation, shouted into the ear of Pete Tay¬ 
lor, the leader: 

“ Hold your noise, you nidering wratches ! ” 

Pete looked up in surprise, and at once meekly 
took his horn from his mouth. And why ? He 
was Mr. McPherson’s clerk ! 

The music came to an irregular halt. The 


ELIJAH MAKES HIS MARK IN CHALK 103 

other members of the band began to jeer at 
Pete. 

“ What ’s the matter, Pete ? Old Man McPher¬ 
son pulled his apron-strings ? ” 

“ O bah ! Go on, Pete ! It ’s none of his busi- 
>> * 

ness. 

“ Play up, fellows, and let Pete knuckle down if 
he wants to ! ” 

“Why, I thought, Mr. McPherson,” stammered 
Pete, “that you were on the other side.” 

“ On the ither side, mon ? D’ ye class me wi’ 
the saloon men, and the corner loungers, and the 
men o’ wind and drumsticks like yoursel’s ? ” And 
here he glowered around the circle. “ I ’m a- 
thinking, Sam Wood, that you’d better discover the 
side your ain maister stands on, for I saw Colonel 
Ames in the hall the noo, an’ ye may weel ken 
what gait he gangs. Yes, an’, Tom Burton, ye ’ll 
be glad to know that Mr. Kenton’s o’erhead ; an’ 
you, John Conway, that Mr. Munson’s one o’ those 
ye»’ve been insulting wi’ your obstreperous noise. 
D’ ye hold your poseetions worth na mair ’n the 
blast o’ a cornet ? Yes, swing your hat up there, 
you Ned Record, shake it weel. Ye ’ll shake na 
mair noise out this parcel o’ fools.” 

The prophecy was a true one. Nearly all of the 
band was composed of clerks and others similarly 
dependent upon the well-to-do of the town. Their 
employers had never before attended a village 


104 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 

caucus. It did not enter the heads of these musi¬ 
cal worthies that their masters would be present 
on this occasion. They simply thought themselves 
called to assist at one of the strifes between spoils¬ 
men that sometimes enlivened the politics of Dan- 
ford. But this was a very different n^atter ! And 
so, though Ned Record waved his hat in fury 
and desperation, Pete Taylor and his comrades 
dropped away into the darkness, all of them to 
appear later shamefacedly in the hall above, and 
to vote with evident eagerness on the side of 
respectability. 

When Sandy McPherson returned to the hall 
after his doughty exploit, he found matters running 
more smoothly, at least for the time. President 
Boynton had made his little introductory speech, 
and had called upon Mr. Hoi worthy to state fully 
the opinions of the citizens who had issued the 
call for the meeting. This the worthy pastor was 
doing with force and vigor. Not even in his pul¬ 
pit had he ever spoken to better purpose, 
f “ This village,” said he, in effect, “ has not been 
governed by the best of its citizens. Of course, 
then, it has not been governed in its best interests. 
Criminal acts are permitted to go unpunished, 
though the perpetrators are well known. Nay, the 
authorities even connive at evil-doing, as in the 
case of the saloons. 

“ Whose fault is it that such men are in power ? 


ELIJAH MAKES HIS MARK IN CHALK 105 

The fault of the best citizens. Surely men cannot 
be blamed for seizing posts of profit and honor 
that are left within their grasp by the careless in¬ 
difference of the public. The worst will rule, if 
the best won’t. 

“ But how do we know that the best can rule in 
Danford ? At least, they can try their strength. 
Less than an attempt would be cowardice. 

“And what is meant by the best citizens?” 
Mr. Holworthy went on to ask. “ The wealthy and 
well-to-do ? No! The college-bred ? No! The 
best men are men of character, though poor, and 
ignorant of schools; men wise in common sense ” ; 
and to all such in his audience Mr. Holworthy ap¬ 
pealed, urging them to band together and place 
in control of the education of their young, in con¬ 
trol of the order, safety, and welfare of their com¬ 
munity, men of sterling worth and Christian 
character. ~ 

That was Parson Holworthy’s sermon, spoken 
with such ardor of intense conviction that it im¬ 
pressed most powerfully all honest men who heard 
him, and awed even the saloon element to respect¬ 
ful silence. 

No sooner, however, had Mr. Holworthy taken 
his seat than Mayor Bill Downs sprung up and 
shouted, “Mr. Chairman, I demand my right to 
the floor! ” A ripple of applause was started by 
Ned Record. 


io6 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


“There is no need to demand it,” replied Presi¬ 
dent Boynton, quietly; “you have the floor.” 

“ I demand to answer all insinuations. [More 
applause .] I am no canting hypocrite. I have 
served this town now for six years, boys, while 
these kid-glove fellows were sitting in their easy 
chairs. They think they can run things better. 
Don’t you trust them. They have n’t had no ex¬ 
perience. They don’t know nothing about the 
ordinances. They would get tired of the job in 
three days. Deliver me from amytoor politicians, 
I say. [Loud laughter and catcalls .] Yes, amy¬ 
toor politicians ; we don’t want none in this here 
town. We want politicians who know their busi¬ 
ness. Men of character is all right. I ’m not 
saying nothin’ again’ that. But what we want is 
men of experience. Yes, boys, what you want is 
men of experience; men who take some interest in 
things, and don’t sit back and loaf in their easy 
chairs. Why, this hall has seen many a caucus, 
but when before has it seen Mr. Holworthy at one, 
or President Boynton, or Mr. Kingman, or Mr. 
Norcross ? [Much laughter, in which even these 
gentlemen joinedi\ Talk about government! How 
would this town have been governed the past six 
years if we had waited for these elegant gentlemen 
to do it — these amytoors ? Parson Holworthy 
cuts lots of ice as a preacher. I ’m not saying 
nothing again’ him, nor nobody. But I want to 


ELIJAH MAKES HIS MARK IN CHALK 107 

ask him if he thinks it is right modest for him to 
come here and preach to a crowd of us fellows who 
have been doing our political duty all these years 
while he was writing sermons in his study! ” 

With this, amid a burst of applause from his 
satellites, Bill Downs took his seat, a satisfied 
smile showing itself through his stubby red mus¬ 
tache. 

Encouraged by this success, Caspar Griffith rose, 
and at the same instant Elijah also sprung to his 
feet. President Boynton recognized Elijah, though 
Griffith had already begun to speak. Instantly it 
was as if a thousand dogs had broken loose. Howls 
and hootings, angry and multitudinous as scores of 
bitter voices could execute them, filled the room, 
so that Elijah’s sturdy utterance was altogether 
drowned. 

Our hero was a debater practised in many a 
college fray. He had gained more, he often said, 
from the Adelphian Society than from any single 
study of his entire course. He was not easily con¬ 
fused, but here was an emergency he had never 
met before. He had not intended to say a word, 
but Bill Downs had roused by his impudent sallies 
all the indignation that was burning within him, 
and before he knew it he had leaped to his feet. 

He waited a minute, and never had minute 
seemed so long. There was a lull, and he shouted 
out, “Mr. Chairman, I protest against —,” but 


io8 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


the uproar was redoubled. The president’s up¬ 
lifted hand was useless to stem the tide, and 
his impetuous pounding on the table equally in 
vain. 

Then there came to Elijah a sudden inspira¬ 
tion. 

At the back of the platform was a large black¬ 
board. He could see the chalk lying ready. He 
sprung upon the rostrum, and, seizing a piece of 
chalk, began to write in a bold, plain hand: — 

“ Thank you. I can make a better speech this 
way than any other.” 

The noise was no less, but greater, for now it 
was mingled with the applause of his friends. 

“ It is a weak cause,” wrote Elijah, “ that wall 
not stand up to a fair debate.” 

Then, while the spectators were digesting that 
sentence, he erased the first. 

“It is a disgrace that men of character have 
kept out of politics,” — delighted and surprised 
yells from the mayor’s crowd, — “ but it would be 
a greater disgrace if they should continue to keep 
out of politics,” Elijah finished it, not so much to 
their liking. 

“When can we have schools that are not the 
laugh of the county ? ” the chalk w r ent on. 

“When we elect to the school board men of 
character and intelligence. When can we take 
advantage of the State law and pass a prohibitory 









































































































. 


* 


Elijah makes his mark in chalk 

















ELIJAH MAKES HIS MARK IN CHALK IO9 

ordinance ? ” Elijah’s training in paragraph-writ¬ 
ing was standing him in good stead. “ When we 
elect a temperance council. When will the prop¬ 
erty interests of the town be cared for ? When 
men of property take charge of them.” 

Thus Elijah continued his telling sentences. 
Nothing holds the mind with such interest as an 
appeal through the eye, and even Caspar Griffith 
forgot to shout and stamp his feet in his desire to 
see what was coming next. Elijah took advantage 
of a moment of silence to drop his chalk and speak : 
“This is the first election in which I have been of 
age to participate, and I think I can say for a good 
many other young men of this town—,” but the 
tempest of sound began again, and Elijah found it 
better to stick to his blackboard. 

He wrote only a few paragraphs more, however, 
and then returned to his seat, rejoiced to know 
that he had sent at least a handful of bullets into 
the camp of the foes of good government. 

With a pleased smile President Boynton took 
firm hold upon the reins of the caucus. Deprecat¬ 
ing further speech-making, in view of the impor¬ 
tant business in prospect, he called for nominations 
to the various offices to be filled at the coming 
election. To count the uplifted hands, he ap¬ 
pointed Mr. Kingman and Mr. Crawford. The 
appointment of the latter was a shrewd move; for 
he was owner of The Bee , and thus his decision 


I IO 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


would be respected by the ringleaders of the op¬ 
position ; yet he was a man who could at least be 
depended on to count straight. 

The nominations that were made had all, of 
course, been planned most carefully beforehand. 
Besides the important office of mayor, two coun- 
cilmen were to be elected, two members of the 
school board, and the marshal. For the latter 
position the friends of good order set forth Anson 
Garland, a sturdy young tinner, clean of life and 
brave of heart, who had a good force of assistants, 
and was willing at some sacrifice to give whatever 
part of his time was necessary to the duties of mar¬ 
shal for at least one term, that he might do his share 
toward ushering in the new and better order of 
things. 

Like this young man and Mr. Jarvis, all the other 
nominations represented self-sacrifice. Professor 
Allen, of the college, for instance, was placed in 
nomination for school director, and would accept 
the post as a public duty, though he knew it meant 
midnight work for not a few nights of the year. 
Mr. Jarvis, however, had pleaded with eloquence 
the cause he now had so much at heart, and all 
had been eager to uphold his hands in the coming 
struggle. 

No nominating speeches were made, and so there 
was no pretext for speeches from the opposition ; 
but they placed in nomination all the old incum- 


ELIJAH MAKES HIS MARK IN CHALK 111 


bents from Bill Downs to Cal Peters, and each 
name was greeted with a vigorous cheer. 

With unvarying, uniformity, however, the vote 
declared by the tellers showed a majority for 
reform, and the mayor’s forces were becoming 
depressed. Seeing this, as the nominations were 
nearly at an end, Caspar Griffith collected his en¬ 
ergies for a great effort. 

“ Mr. Chairman ! ” he shouted, “this is not a free 
caucus. The citizens — the solid granite masses 
of the people — are ground down by organized 
capital. Yes, sir!” and Griffith grew more con¬ 
fident as he proceeded; “ the presence of every 
storekeeper here, what does it mean ? What is it 
but a threat that their clerks and their draymen 
and the men that owe them for a little bill of goods 
must vote just as they say ? Fellow citizens, has 
it come to this ? Are we to be ground down be¬ 
neath the heels of these multi-multi-pluti—,” — 
Griffith wanted to say “ plutocrats,” but could not 
think of the word, — “ of these pocket-book poli¬ 
ticians ? No ! no ! ” The editor’s remarks were 
buoyed up on a wave of applause. “We are in 
a slight minority here. Never mind. Don’t you 
fret. We can count on twice as many votes as 
are needed to re-elect Mayor Downs and the en¬ 
tire ticket. I issue a call for another caucus. 
It will be held straight off in the office of The 
Bee. Come along, boys, and let ’s leave the ” — 


112 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


he had thought of the word — “ the plutocrats 
to their scheming.” 

And with a jumble of mocking outcries, the dis¬ 
comfited following of Mayor Downs clattered and 
shuffled out of the room, to organize by themselves 
an opposition campaign. 

“ The fight is On ! ” muttered Elijah to himself. 


A MATTER OF LIFE OR DEATH. 


113 


CHAPTER XII. 

A MATTER OF LIFE OR DEATH. 

But we must not forget our Christian citizen- • 
ship committee. Their first work, the canvass for 
the citizens’ caucus, was so abundantly successful 
that their zeal was fired for new labors. They in¬ 
vited the other young people’s societies of the town 
to join them, and their invitation was accepted. A 
time was set for the first meeting to study the 
problems of citizenship, and a speaker was found. 
He was the superintendent of the Danford schools, 
Mr. Hosmer, an excellent teacher, who was soon 
to leave to take charge of the more important 
schools of Milton. It was his place that Elijah as¬ 
pired to fill. 

Before an interested company of young folks — 
with some older persons who had asked the privi¬ 
lege of attending—Superintendent Hosmer gave 
a full account of the public-school system of the 
State, from the State commissioner of education 
down to the directors of the smallest districts. He 
told how the money was obtained for the support 
of the schools, and how the teachers were paid ; 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


114 

what were the themes of the teachers’ examina¬ 
tions, by whom they were conducted, and what 
sorts of questions were asked. He told about the 
grades of certificates that were given, and on what 
terms each was to be obtained; about the system 
of superintendence of the schools, the teachers’ in¬ 
stitutes, the choice of text-books, the laws regard¬ 
ing the use of the Bible in the schools, the laws 
regarding discipline ; in fine, he brought forth for 
their information a vast store of facts that were 
perfectly familiar to him but for the most part en¬ 
tirely new to his audience. 

The Endeavorers in the mean time were taking 
notes, and when the time for questions came they 
were poured upon the speaker in bewildering num¬ 
bers. “ How does it happen that so many incom¬ 
petent teachers get into the public schools ? ” was 
one query of much importance, and a long discus¬ 
sion followed, first as to the fact and then as to 
the remedy. “ Why are not female teachers paid 
as much as men ? ” “ Why are the text-books 

changed so often ? ” “ What do you think of 

the plan of furnishing text-books by the town?” 
“ How far is temperance instruction carried on ? ” 
“Why is it that so many young people take up 
teaching for a few years only, and so few make it 
a life-work?” Those are samples of the questions 
asked. 

Indeed, so many were the queries, and so im- 


A MA TTER OF LIFE OR DEA TH. 11 5 

portant were the subjects they developed, that 
Superintendent Hosmer suggested that the most 
interesting of these matters be referred to com¬ 
mittees for investigation and for report at later 
meetings, and his wise suggestion was carried out. 

On the whole, the Endeavorers felt that seldom 
had they passed so profitable an evening. They 
went away feeling that on one important branch of 
a citizen’s knowledge they were at least beginning 
to be informed, and they looked forward eagerly to 
their next meeting, at which Mrs. Barton was to 
talk about temperance laws, and the saloon ques¬ 
tion in general. 

Not waiting for that meeting, however, this ac¬ 
tive Christian citizenship committee set themselves 
to some practical temperance service under the 
leadership of the Danford Woman’s Christian Tem¬ 
perance Union. The State in which Danford is 
situated was one of the first to adopt a law giving 
local option to towns. This was a new law, and 
no one outside the small circle of temperance 
workers seemed to know or care much about it. 
At any rate, Mayor Downs and his attendant 
worthies had evidently no thought of moving in 
the matter. But the Woman’s Christian Temper¬ 
ance Union, stirred to hopeful action by the new 
civic impulse in Danford, proposed to set them to 
thinking. 

The plan was to petition the council to bring 


II6 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 

the prohibition of saloons for vote before the peo¬ 
ple at the next election. The circulation of this 
petition was undertaken by our Christian citizen¬ 
ship committee and their friends. It was Florence 
Tone who, in her deep sympathy for Mrs. Mason 
and Alice, had suggested the work to the com¬ 
mittee, for Florence was an ardent worker in the 
W. C. T. U., the “Y’s” not yet having reached 
Danford. Ben Jarvis was glad to put his commit¬ 
tee to that service, “especially if they might go 
out two by two, as in the apostolic age — and he 
would accompany Miss Tone.” But Miss Tone ve¬ 
toed the latter notion. 

This petition having received scores of weighty 
signatures, lo, a momentous assembly at the next 
meeting of the town council. The mayor had 
been notified, but still he was greatly astonished 
when about thirty of the principal citizens of the 
place walked into the dingy little room that served 
as council-chamber of the municipality. Usually 
the council had it all to themselves, and lounged 
at ease around the smoky stove, telling foggy sto¬ 
ries by the light of an equally foggy coal-oil lamp. 
Bill Malony, or Hans Doppelheimer, or Cal Peters, 
or Ned Record, might drop in to pass the time of 
day and add a gossipy yarn; and indeed those 
worthies, with a few of their sort, were present on 
this occasion, but they were quite lost in the flood 
of respectability. 


A MATTER OF LIFE OR DEATH. 


II 7 


Mayor Downs speedily brought his chair to its 
four legs, and awkwardly rose. He did not know 
what to say, but Mr. Jarvis addressed him cor¬ 
dially : “ Good-evening, your honor, and gentlemen 
of the council. We are here with our petition, 
which we will present when you are ready for 
it.” 

The mayor perceived that Bill Malony and his 
friends, with the council, were occupying the few 
chairs in the room, and wondered whether he 
should offer the ladies his own. But where would 
be his dignity without a chair? So he thought 
better of it; and as for the others, the problem 
did not trouble them at all. 

Caspar Griffith leered impudently at Elijah, and 
Hans Doppelheimer burst out in a loud guffaw as 
Bill Malony, under his breath, proposed that they 
treat the newcomers to lemonade. 

There was an awkward silence, which was bro¬ 
ken by Mayor Downs. 

“ I s’pose our reg’lar business can be postponed 
while we listen to the petition. The clerk will 
read it.” 

The town clerk was poor old Ebenezer Hawk, 
kept in his position as a graceful tribute to gray 
hairs and inoffensiveness. His hand trembled 
with excitement, and his voice quivered as he felt 
his way through the document handed him, stum¬ 
bling fearfully over the longer words, for Ebene- 


1 18 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 

zer’s education had consisted chiefly in the art of 
setting traps and smoking strong tobacco. 

This painful operation being concluded to every¬ 
body’s manifest relief, Bill Downs remarked, 

“ Now I s’pose you folks has speeches to make.” 

At this gracious intimation Mrs. Barton, the 
president of the W. C. T. U., stepped forward, and 
with practised eloquence — for she had addressed 
many a temperance rally throughout the State — 
she pleaded the cause of a pure life. Even Hans 
Doppelheimer listened intently. Even Bill Malony 
wore a serious face as that large-hearted woman of 
wide and deep experience told over again the old, 
old story of the pitiful havoc, the terrible ruin, 
wrought by rum. “ And all we ask of you, gentle¬ 
men,” said she in conclusion, “is that you give the 
people a chance to vote on the question. Surely, 
if the saloon is a good thing, it is not afraid of 
public discussion.” 

During the latter parts of Mrs. Barton’s address, 
Bill Malony had been engaged in an earnest whis¬ 
pered conversation with Cal Peters and Caspar 
Griffith. Doubtless it was a result of this that the 
last-mentioned, as soon as the temperance plea was 
ended, stepped briskly forward, and said, 

“Y’ honor, before the council act on this pe¬ 
tition, ain’t you going to give the other side a 
show ? ” 

“Why, of course,” replied the mayor, greatly 


A MATTER OF LIFE OR DEATH. 119 

relieved to have it suggested to him what he might 
do at this awkward juncture. “ If Mr. Malony, or 
Mr. Doppelheimer, or any other gentleman of their 
occupation are here to-night, they may speak per 
contra!' That was the only Latin Bill Downs 
knew, and he held it quite as good as a legal edu¬ 
cation. 

The two saloon-keepers indicated shuffled un¬ 
easily, and pointed to Caspar Griffith with their 
thumbs. 

“ Being modest and retiring citizens,” said the 
editor of The Bee , “ they have asked me to act as 
their representative on this occasion. That, gen¬ 
tlemen, I will gladly do. For I believe, gentle¬ 
men, in personal liberty. Every man has enough 
to do to reg’late his own conscience. If every¬ 
body ’d mind their own business, all the business 
’d get minded. ’Nd, furthermore, I ask you gen¬ 
tlemen whether this town can afford to lose the 
eight hundred dollars a year which we receive 
from liquor licenses ? ’Nd I ask you ’f this town 
can afford to lose the trade we’d lose if we closed 
up the saloons ? For the farmers would n’t deal 
no longer with our stores. They’d go where they 
could get their nat’ral stimulus, and do their trad¬ 
ing where their personal liberty would n’t be in¬ 
terfered with. ’Nd taxes’d be raised, and these 
very people who are here with their high-flown 
petition would be the first to howl. I ain’t no 


20 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


theoretical. I ’m plain right down ’nd practical. 
’F you shut up the saloons, y’ ain’t going to stop 
the liquor-selling. No, sir. ’F men want their 
drink, they ’re going to get it, an’ don’t you for¬ 
get it. We might ’s.well have the profit as well’s 
the neighboring towns. A straight-out, licensed, 
look-you-in-the-face saloon’s a million times better 
’n a speak-easy. Why, you could n’t do a more 
demoralizing thing for this town, gentlemen, than 
for to set up those low-lived, sneaking, kitchen 
bar-rooms in place of our respectable, quiet, law- 
abiding places of refreshment under the eye of our 
efficient marshal and under the due supervision of 
the law.” 

Here, feeling that he had come to a proper ora¬ 
torical climax, Caspar Griffith sat down, while Bill 
and Hans slapped him on the knee and all their 
cronies nodded their heads approvingly. 

Mayor Downs saw a chance for a coup d'ttat. 

“Now, as both sides have had their say,” he re¬ 
marked hastily, “ I don’t see the use of no further 
palaver. I agree with Mr. Griffith. All of you 
as agrees with me and votes against this petition 
hold up your hands.” 

Up went the hands of four out of the six coun- 
cilmen. 

“ Contrary minded —,” began the mayor exult- 
ingly, when a woman’s voice broke in. It was 
Mrs. Mason. 


A MATTER OF LIFE OR DEATH. 


121 


“ O Mr. Downs,” she cried. “ O gentlemen, 
don’t! don’t! Listen to a mother pleading for 
her boy. Hear me just a minute, just a minute, 
for the love of God. I did n’t come here to say a 
word. There are many here who can speak better 
than I. But oh, they have n’t a boy going the 
downward way! Men, you know my boy, my 
Teddy. You have watched him grow up. You 
saw him when he was a baby, an innocent baby, O 
so beautiful! and when he was a pure-faced little 
lad just going to school; and you know when his 
father died, and how he was left to be the stay 
of my home, and how many prayers went up to 
heaven for his dear sake. And O men,” — and 
such a horror seized her voice that all the listeners 
shuddered, — “ do you know how he came home 
to me the other day, home to me from one of 
these respectable saloons, these profitable saloons, 
these law-abiding saloons, that would n’t sell to 
minors for the world ? He was — ah God ! I can¬ 
not say the word. The drink has ruined his 
mind. He has no care for books. He has no 
more ambition. He has — he has — I fear he has 
no more love for me. O, it is killing me, men. 
What are a few hundred dollars in license money 
compared to the thousands of dollars wasted on 
this poison ? And what is all the money in all 
the world compared to my boy ? O men, I plead 
with you. You have boys, some of you. The 


22 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


curse may enter your home some day, as it has 
entered mine. I implore you, grant this petition. 
For the love of God, gentlemen; for the love of 
God.” 

The poor woman’s voice choked, the tears ran 
down her face, and she broke into those low sobs 
that speak more loudly of bitter woe than the 
wildest wailing. 

“ I can’t stand this, Bill,” said Councilman 
Gracy, wiping his eyes. “ Count my vote on the 
other side.” 

“ God bless you,” said Mrs. Barton fervently; 
and she looked eagerly at the other councilmen 
who had voted against the petition ; but their faces 
were stolid and unmoved. 

Mr. Jarvis, and the others who were to speak, 
thought it useless to utter a word after that appeal 
from a mother. 

Mayor Downs broke the silence harshly. 

“ An’ all you in favor of the petition may raise 
your hands. Three, eh ? It’s a tie, then, and I 
cast the deciding vote. I cast it—,” here he hes¬ 
itated, but only for a minute. Catching Caspar 
Griffith’s sarcastic eye, he finished boldly — “I 
cast it against the petition.” 


ELIJAH INTERVIEWS THE SCHOOL BOARD. 123 


CHAPTER XIII. 

ELIJAH INTERVIEWS THE SCHOOL BOARD. 

Of course, even in the midst of these more ex¬ 
citing matters, Elijah could not neglect The Dan- 
ford Citizen. To say nothing of the job depart¬ 
ment, which kept him and P. T. constantly busy, 
our young journalist spent more and more thought 
and pains upon his news paragraphs, as he came 
to see more clearly what a mighty power for good 
he could exercise through them. 

In a small town every item in the weekly paper 
receives a prodigious amount of attention. No 
point made is lost, no allusion is allowed to go 
without full investigation. A preacher for right¬ 
eousness finds here a most influential pulpit. So 
also does an advocate of sin. 

Elijah did not “ preach ” in the cant sense of 
the word. He remembered always that it makes 
no difference what a man writes, if it is not read. 
Therefore he sought first of all to be bright and 
attractive, and then to put into his brightness 
something helpful and stimulating. 


124 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


Not a few persons were always ready to assist 
Elijah in his laudable endeavors. One of the 
most willing of these was Hiram Smith, the town 
poet I have already mentioned. Quite regularly 
once a week Hiram’s lank form would appear in 
the doorway of the little office, and he would step 
hesitatingly to Elijah’s desk, and stammer out, 
with all the confidence he could muster: “ Here’s 
a leetle somepin I’ve jest scribbled off. You may 
use it fer nothin’ ’f you want to. I have n’t saw 
my last one yet.” 

“No. I am sorry, Mr. Smith,” Elijah would 
say, “ but it was n ’t quite available.” 

“Too long? Well, this one is shorter. I left 
out several stanzys. You can fix the meters ’f 
you want to. Good-by.” 

And then Elijah would carefully lay away, in 
the drawer of curiosities that every editor keeps 
full, some such poem as the following: — 

ODD ON ETERNITY. 

O Thou Cow which standing art 
in my nabur Jones barnyard 
You give yure milk to those you love 
and hast one Horn pointing up above 
Into eternity. 

0 Thou Rooster which standing art 
In my nabur Jones barnyard 
you grub up worms for those you love 
And hast a Comb sticking up above 
into Eternity. 


ELIJAH INTERVIEWS THE SCHOOL BOARD. 125 

O thou hen which standing Art 
In my nabur Jones barnyard 
You lay Eggs for those you love 
and sends a cackel up above 
Into eternity. 

There was much more of this poem, and, indeed, 
there seemed to be no reason why the poem should 
not go on as long as the eternity it celebrated. 

From this barnyard genius and from many other 
aspects of his work Elijah got lots of fun, he was 
aware that the steady practice was limbering his 
pen to skilful power, he rejoiced in the good he 
knew his work was accomplishing; but once in a 
while his father would quizzically ask him, “ Well, 
Elijah, what are you getting out of this? ” and our 
editor could only reply that, so far as money was 
concerned, he was getting absolutely nothing. Mr. 
Hackerman permitted him to retain enough of the 
receipts from subscriptions and the job office to 
“keep” P. T., and that was all. “The concern 
is n’t on a payin’ basis yet,” he would reply to 
Elijah’s hints. “ But don’t you worry. We ’ll do 
well by you yet. Just stick to the ship a while 
longer and we ’ll do the handsome. Yes, we will. 
Dead sure.” 

Therefore it was that Elijah’s thoughts were 
often forced to the question of his future liveli¬ 
hood, and to the much desired superintendency of 
the Danford schools. Before graduation, as soon 
as he learned that Superintendent Hosmer was to 


126 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


leave, he had seen the three members of the vil¬ 
lage school board and obtained from each of them 
a cordial promise of the place. Now, as the end 
of summer was not far distant, he set out one 
morning to push his claims, if possible, to the 
point of settlement. 

The first upon whom Elijah called was old Peter 
Johnson, a wealthy paper manufacturer who had 
retired from his business upon a large income, and 
who had been placed upon the school board for 
the single and sufficient reason that “ he had time 
enough to attend to it.” Elijah found him in an 
elegantly furnished smoking-room, whose air was 
thick with the fumes of stale tobacco. 

“ Thought you ’d give up your notion of teaching 
school,” was Mr. Johnson’s response when Elijah 
unfolded his errand. “Thought you ’d made up 
your mind you ’d rather run the town.” 

“ Why, sir, if you mean my work on The Citizen , 
it is not paying work, — from a money point of 
view, — and I have never thought of giving up my 
application for the superintendency.” 

“ Paying ? Naw ; I sh’d think not. It never 
pays to stick yer nose into other people’s busi¬ 
ness, young feller. I don’t mean your nonsensical 
scribbling, though that ’s not called for, as I take 
it; but you ’re too perky with the chalk to suit me> 
even if you do want to be a schoolmaster, an’ so I 
tell you.” 


ELIJAH INTERVIEWS THE SCHOOL BOARD. 127 

A flood of light broke in upon Elijah. It was 
his luckless sentence about the intelligent school 
board written on the blackboard at the caucus. In 
the excitement of the moment he had not stopped 
to pick out politic phrases, but had written what 
was honestly in his heart. And now had he 
spoiled his worldly chances by it ? 

“ Nice example ’d be for the children, teach¬ 
ing them to ridicule the elected authorities of the 
city! ” Mr. Johnson continued, getting up from his 
leather-covered chair and glowering down on Elijah. 
“ You ! a mere boy ! The imp’dence of it! Why, 
I have hired more school-teachers ’n you could 
shake a stick at, and they ain’t none of ’em dared 
to use sech language of the school board. An’ if 
you dare to use it while you ’re jest a cand’date, 
heaven only knows what sass you’d give us after 
you were elected. No, sir! You can jest make up 
your mind to do without my vote, an’ come down 
off yer high horse for the future. Barney, show 
this fellow out.” 

Hot with indignation, Elijah went next to the 
second member of the school board, Anthony Tip- 
ton, the barber. This Mr. Tipton was a man in 
middle life, who thought himself the village oracle. 
He was the possessor of a large vocabulary, gained 
by the diligent study of Webster’s Unabridged 
while waiting for customers. By virtue of this 
vocabulary he held himself to be vastly learned. 


128 


ELIJAH TONE, CITIZEN 


Anthony Tipton had been very gracious to Eli¬ 
jah in his previous interview, so that our hero 
approached him with considerable confidence. 

“ As soon as you are through shaving Mr. Glea¬ 
son,” said Elijah, “may I talk with you about that 
school matter, Mr. Tipton ? ” 

“You may talk ex tempore ,” answered the bar¬ 
ber, scowling at Elijah and flourishing his razor. 
“ I have nothing clandestine to colloquize about.” 

“ Well, sir, it is getting near time, I suppose, for 
the election of the school superintendent to take 
Mr. Hosmer’s place.” 

“We can differentiate the suitable opportunity 
for that suffrage ourselves, thank you, Mr. Elijah 
Tone.” 

“ Certainly, sir. I don’t want to hurry the board. 
But naturally I should like to know what my chances 
are.” 

“Your chances?” burst out the barber, swab¬ 
bing Mr. Gleason viciously with the lather-brush, 
“ your chances ? Who the canopy told you you 
had any ? ” In his wrath he forgot his vocabu¬ 
lary. 

“ Why, you, sir. When I spoke to you about it 
last spring, you encouraged me to send in an appli¬ 
cation, and I did so.” 

“ That was before your exposition of consum¬ 
mate conceit. You’d like a more intelligent school 
board, eh?” and his razor narrowly escaped Mr. 


ELIJAH INTERVIEWS THE SCHOOL BOARD. 129 

Gleason’s left ear. “ Maybe you ’d like to put the 
school board in your primary department, eh ? You 
’re an unsophisticated ichthyosaurus, sir. That’s 
what you are.” 

“ Say, Tipton, ouch ! ” cried the long-suffering 
Gleason. “You cut me then, I know you did.” 

“ Clear out ! ” the barber fiercely exclaimed ; and 
Elijah lost no time in obeying. 

The third and last member of the school board 
was Jacob Grundheim, the druggist. With a ma¬ 
jority already against him, Elijah hesitated to expose 
himself to a fresh rebuff, but thought it well to 
leave no stone unturned. Besides, the genial Ger¬ 
man had always been his friend, and he had heard 
that Mr. Grundheim had declared him to be “ the 
most shmartest young feller dot Danford hat effer 
ausgeturned.” 

Jacob Grundheim was found in the little store¬ 
room back of his drug-store, cutting panes of glass. 

“ Unt vot can I do for you a’retty ? ” he inquired 
gruffly, scarcely looking up, and with his pencil in 
his mouth. 

“ I have come to see about the school superin¬ 
tendency, Mr. Grundheim. You know I applied 
for the position that Mr. Hosmer will vacate. 
Have I any chance ? ” 

“You!” and the druggist removed his pencil 
that he might better express his scorn. “ Vy, vot 
oxpeerience haf you hat ? ” 


130 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


“ Why, of course you know, Mr. Grundheim, that 
I left college one year and taught district school, 
and my labors were satisfactory, I think. You 
may ask the directors. It was the Blue Creek 
district.” 

“ Unt your verk there vas nod sateesfactory, 
Mishter Tone. I vas asking, it was only to-day 
morgen, Bill Rundel, der fader of one of your poys, 
unt Bill says you vip him almost det. Unt, pe- 
sides, you haf not effer peen superintendent any- 
veres, eh ? ” 

“ No, sir, but every teacher must begin some¬ 
where.” 

“ Den you’d petter begin vere you haf a school 
poard dot is nt all know-noddijigs, eh ? Goot-mor- 
gen, Mishter Tone.” And the irate German bore 
down so hard upon his diamond that the glass was 
splintered, and he threw it angrily into a barrel 
standing near. 

“ Goot-morgen, I say. Vy don’t you go ? It 
vas too pad to vaste your dime on a know-nodding 
like I vas.” 


SEVERAL DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 13 I 


CHAPTER XIV. 

IN WHICH SEVERAL DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 

Crawford and Crane were the real-estate deal¬ 
ers of Danford. They were also the Danford in¬ 
surance men, — fire, life, and accident. They 
extended their operations over the entire county, 
and so they managed to make a great deal of 
money. 

Now Mr. Crawford was the proprietor of The 
Bee , but, nevertheless, Mr. Crane patronized The 
Citizen for all his private printing. He did it 
partly to spite his partner, and partly because The 
Citizen office did better work. Thus it chanced 
that one day P. T. called at the office of Crawford 
and Crane to deliver a package of visiting-cards 
for the junior member of the firm. 

No one was visible but the office boy, who sat 
tipped back in his chair reading The Bee. 

“ You will find Mr. Crane in there,” that func¬ 
tionary vouchsafed, indicating with his thumb a 
door at the back of the room. 

As P. T. opened this door, he heard the office 
boy behind him. A rough push sent him turn- 


132 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 

bling forward, the door was flung to and locked, 
and a mocking laugh was heard outside. P. T. 
was a prisoner. 

The little hunchback found himself in absolute 
darkness, save that a thin ray of light came through 
the keyhole. Groping around, P. T. found him¬ 
self to be in the narrowest of quarters, a closet, 
rendered still more circumscribed by shelves full 
of books and packages of papers. 

“ Let me out ! ” cried P. T., beating on the 
door. 

The only answer was a chuckle from the office 
boy. 

“That ’s what you get for sticking your nose 
into The Bee office. Did n’t you know Mr. Craw¬ 
ford owned The Bee ? ” 

“ Let me out or I ’ll tell Mr. Crane, and he ’ll 
discharge you.” 

“ Huh ! Mr. Crane is n’t within fifty miles of 
here.” 

“ Well, Mr. Crawford, then. He’d never per¬ 
mit such doings,” shouted P. T., whose temper 
was thoroughly aroused. 

“ Mr. Crawford’s gone to Milton, and won’t be 
back till night ; so rest easy, honey. The Bee ’s 
got you now. Just look out, or you ’ll get stung. 
Stop your yelling, honey.” And the office boy 
chuckled again over the metaphor he had dis¬ 
covered. 


SEVERAL DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 1 33 

P. T. saw that expostulation was useless. He 
sat down on the floor and began to think. 

Taking a bunch of keys from his pocket, he 
tried one in the door ; but the key from the other 
side prevented the insertion of his. He tried with 
his knife-blade to push back the lock, but he broke 
the blade off short. 

These efforts made a noise, and, indeed, P. T. 
took no pains to be quiet. Suddenly, as the 
hunchback was bending over, working more cau¬ 
tiously with the remaining knife-blade, a stream of 
some liquid struck him full in the face and wet his 
shirt and coat. It was black ink, which the office 
boy had skilfully squirted through the keyhole, 
noiselessly removing the key for that purpose. 

P. T. guessed what it was, though he could not 
see, and fairly howled with rage. He flung him¬ 
self against the door and kicked it in his passion. 

“ Let me out this minute, you rascal ! Let me 
out this minute, or you ’ll pay for it! ” 

There was a sound as of gleeful dancing with¬ 
out. 

“ O my ! ” cried the office boy, “ if this is n’t 
fun ! I ’d give a nickel to see you now, my 
beauty ! But you must just stay in there till it 
dries on.” 

That would not be long, for in the closet it was 
fearfully hot and stifling. P. T. was all the hotter 
with his exertions and his wrath. Nevertheless, 


134 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


he continued to beat upon the door and to shout, 
though conscious that his muffled outcry could 
not be heard, probably, beyond the office. 

Suddenly the poor boy’s head began to whirl. 
A chill struck his hot face. He grew sick and 
faint, and then for a time he knew nothing more. 

Mr. Crawford’s office boy grinned when he per¬ 
ceived how quiet the closet had become. “ Found 
it ’s no use, honey ! ” he remarked. “ Might as 
well get sweet, you know, first as last.” And he 
whistled to himself as he tipped back once more 
in his chair and took up the newspaper. 

Just at that minute Mr. Crawford entered with 
Caspar Griffith. 

Down came the office boy’s chair-legs, and down 
went his heart. 

“ W-w-why, sir, I thought you went to Milton,” 
he stammered. 

“ Well, you see I did n’t,” answered Mr. Craw¬ 
ford shortly. He was a stout, big-whiskered man, 
and owned the temper that went with the whis¬ 
kers. “ Have you taken Mr. Cole that release of 
mortgage 'yet ? ” asked Mr. Crawford, snappishly. 

“ Not yet, sir,” replied the meek office boy. 
“You told me to mind the office.” 

“ Well, I tell you now to take that paper to Mr. 
Cole ; so be quick about it.” 

The reluctant boy obeyed, casting a frightened 
glance at the closet door. 


SEVERAL DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 135 


“ Now, Griffith,” said Mr. Crawford, as soon as 
the office boy was out of hearing, “we might as 
well come to an understanding. Your interest 
has been due for more than a year. You have 
been making one excuse after another, but I have 
let it go on as long as I am going to. What 
becomes of the money you make on The Bee I 
cannot comprehend, unless — which I more than 
suspect — you have taken to gambling.” 

“You get your receipts from The Bee right 
along,” grumbled Griffith. 

“ Yes, but your share of them is plenty large 
enough to have paid up that note twenty times 
over if you had a mind to, instead of letting it go 
on this way. I tell you I won’t stand it, Caspar 
Griffith.” 

“ Won’t stand it, eh ? What are you going to 
do about it ? ” insolently replied Mr. Crawford’s 
subordinate. 

“ I ’ll show you, sir. I propose to turn you out 
of the office and run you out of the town,” an¬ 
swered the proprietor of The Bee , in a rage at 
Griffith’s coolness. 

“ O ho! you do, eh ? Well now, do you know, 
I think you ’d better go slow, Mr. Crawford. I 
do, indeed. I know too many of your secrets. It 
would n’t be quite healthy for you to turn me off, 
Mr. Crawford. No, it would n’t, sir.” 

“ I’m not afraid of you and your secrets.” 


136 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 

■“Well, you ’d better be.” 

“ I ’m not. And what is more, I give you no¬ 
tice right here and now; if you don’t pay me that 
interest by to-morrow morning, you may pack up 
and go. I ’ll find another editor, and I won’t 
have to look far to find one, either.” 

Caspar Griffith almost shouted his reply. “Is 
this your gratitude, Mark Crawford ? I ’ve been 
doing your dirty jobs now for ten years. I ’ve 
fairly run my hands into the handcuffs fifty times 
for you. And this is all I get for it! You know 
what risks I ran when I hauled that beastly 
little hunchback off into the glen. And when I 
stacked their printing-office. Yes, and when I set 
fire to it, and got in smelling range of the peni¬ 
tentiary. And now what do I get for it ? ” 

“ You did those things,” said Mr. Crawford 
coldly ; “ I did n’t.” 

“ And I suppose you will say you did n’t tell 
me to do them, too ? ” 

“ I certainly will.” 

“ Well, now, if that is n’t too much ! ” and Cas¬ 
par Griffith uttered a horrid string of oaths. “ You 
did nt tell me to ? Well, you did n’t tell me not 
to. You knew just what was going to be done. 
You chuckled at it. You slapped me on the 
knee. You called me ‘fine fellow,’ and all that. 
And now, — ” the blasphemy with which Griffith 
rounded out his sentence was cut short by a 
queer muffled call. 


SEVERAL DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 137 


“ Let me out! ” 

“ What’s that ? ” said the startled pair together. 
Then came a pounding, and another muffled cry, 
“ Let me out, I say.” 

“ It ’s over there,” said Griffith, staring vaguely. 
“ It comes from the closet,” said Mr. Crawford. 
He strode across the room, picked up the key 
and unlocked the closet door, opened it, and out 
tumbled the little hunchback. 


138 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


CHAPTER XV. 

CASPAR GRIFFITH IS WANTED. 

He was a pitiful, and yet ridiculous, figure, the 
little hunchback. His face was very white, and 
splashed all over with black ink, which his perspi¬ 
ration had caused to run in irregular lines down 
to his chin. His shirt also was covered with black 
spots, and his coat was plentifully besprinkled. 
He tried to stand, but tottered and fell in a heap 
against the wall. 

“ Why, what in the world —,” began Mr. Craw¬ 
ford. 

“It ’s Elijah Tone’s brat,” interrupted Griffith. 
“ I wonder how much he heard.” 

Mr. Crawford looked at his editor sharply. “ You 
are not so bold as you were a minute ago,” he 
sneered. Then he shook P. T. roughly by the 
arm. “ Come, young feller ! wake up ! what’s the 
matter with ye ? ” 

P. T.’s head hung limp, and his eyes were half 
closed, but at this command he opened them slowly 
and stupidly. 

“ He did n’t hear anything. Don’t you worry,” 


CASPAR GRIFFITH IS WANTED. 139 

said Mr. Crawford to Griffith, evidently relieved at 
the discovery. 

The editor of The Bee kicked the hunchback as 
he lay on the floor. “ Get up, you brat! Get out 
of this ! ” 

The big brown eyes flew open in an instant. 
“ Don’t you dare do that again, Caspar Griffith ! ” 
P. T. fairly shouted. “ Don’t you dare do that 
again ! ” 

The cruel scoundrel shrank back in dismay. He 
was not at all sure, now, that “ Elijah Tone’s brat” 
had not heard. 

“ How did you get in there ? ” asked Mr. Craw¬ 
ford angrily. 

But P. T.’s face had returned to its stupid look, 
and the proprietor of The Bee was obliged to re¬ 
peat his question. 

“ Your boy put me in,” was the reply. “ I was 
bringing a package of printing to Mr. Crane,” said 
P. T., pointing to the package still lying on the 
closet floor; “ and your boy said he was in there, 
and I thought it was another room, and when I 
opened the door he pushed me in and locked it, 
and when I was trying to get out he squirted his 
dirty ink all over me.” 

P. T.’s voice gained strength as he went on, and 
fire came to his eyes. Again Griffith trembled for 
what the hunchback might have heard. 

“Why did n’t you tell us that you were here 
long ago ? ” he asked suspiciously. 


140 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 

“ I think I must have fainted away in there,” 
said the dwarf simply; “ it was so hot, and I got 
so faint, someway, with trying to get out, and I am 
not very strong, anyway, nowadays,” this last with 
a look so stern in spite of the ink splashes that 
both the rascals before him were made uneasy 
by it. 

“And now,” said P. T., lifting himself slowly 
from the floor, “ I guess I will go, seein’ you was 
kind enough to let me out.” 

“We have got to keep him,” whispered Caspar 
excitedly. 

“ Why, you fool ? ” was Crawford’s rough an¬ 
swer. 

“ Why, because — because —.” 

But P. T. was already gone. 

Until he reached the corner the dwarf walked 
slowly enough, but then, turning down it, he began 
to run. He ran all the way to The Citizen office, 
and burst in upon Elijah while he was in close 
consultation with three persons who were all deeply 
interested in the coming election, — Mr. Jarvis, 
Mr. Holworthy, and President Boyjaton. It was 
to this notable audience that he told his tale. 

“ And then when I come to a little,” said P. T., 
near the conclusion of his recital, “ I heard voices 
kinder distant-like, and it come to me all of a sud¬ 
den that they was talking about me and you. So, 
though I felt awful shaky, I listened with all my 


CASPAR GRIFFITH IS WANTED . 141 

might. And I heard Caspar Griffith tell Mr. 
Crawford that he was the one who set your office 
afire, and beat me in the glen, and stacked the 
office in the first place. And he was quarrelling 
with Mr. Crawford about something, and he—.” 

“ Did Mr. Crawford know about Griffith’s do¬ 
ings ? Was he an accomplice ? ” interrupted Mr. 
Jarvis, his brows knit. 

“ He knew all about it, sir. Griffith told him 
he did, and he did n’t deny it, and Griffith threat¬ 
ened him, and he defied him, for he said he had n’t 
done nothing.” 

This statement, in spite of its confusion of he's 
and him's, was clear enough to P. T.’s audience. 

“ I don’t suppose we have a hold on Mr. Craw¬ 
ford,” said Elijah slowly, “but as for Caspar 
Griffith, gentlemen, should n’t you think this the 
time to act, and act quickly ? You know what his 
villany has been, and what his influence is in this 
town.” 

“ His punishment would be a salutary lesson to 
a great many others,” put in Mr. Holworthy. 

“ Not a minute ought to be lost,” added Mr. 
Jarvis. “ You remember our experience in that 
saloon affair. Come, gentlemen, let us take P. T. 
with us and go at once.” 

“ Go where ? ” 

“To do what ? ” 

“ In my opinion, we should go at once in a body 


142 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


to Marshal Peters and compel him to make the 
arrest.” 

“ I ’d like to see you compel Cal Peters to do 
something he does n’t want to do,” objected Mr. 
Holworthy. 

“There are ways,” answered Mr. Jarvis. “ Let 
us not waste another instant. Come on,” and he 
hurried out, followed by all the others. 

For a wonder Cal Peters was found in his little 
fruit-store, lying at full length on a rough bench 
that occupied one side of the room. He held a 
half-eaten banana in his hand, and it was half-way 
to his mouth when Elijah stepped up to him. 

“ Howdy,” he murmured, lazily taking a mouth¬ 
ful of the fruit. “What, you, too, Mr. Jarvis ? ” and 
he swallowed the mouthful suddenly. “ And you, 
too, Mr. Holworthy ? ” and he threw down his long 
legs and sat up. “ And you, Dr. Boynton ? ” and 
he threw away the half-eaten banana. “ Wh-wh- 
why, what do all you gents want ? ” 

“We want you,” said Mr. Jarvis, “to make an 
arrest.” 

“ Certainly, gents, certainly. That ’s my busi¬ 
ness, gents, an’ I ’tends to my business.” Peters 
rubbed his hands smoothly together. 

“And the arrest must be made right away—as 
quick as we can walk three squares,” added Mr. 
Jarvis. 

“ Certainly, gents, certainly,” replied the mar- 


CA SPA R GRIFFITH IS WANTED. 


143 


shal deliberately. “ Certainly, that is, unless they 
’s some legal imped’ment. Some legal imped’- 
ment,” he repeated to himself. 

“ And the man you are to arrest/’ continued 
Mr. Jarvis, “ is Caspar Griffith.” 

“ Caspar Griffith! O come now, Mr. Jarvis, 
you know I am always ready to do my duty. I am 
the city marshal, and consequently—,” and here 
Peters settled himself down for a long argument, 
his hands in his pockets, one leg thrown easily over 
the other; “ consequently it is my duty to look 
on both sides of a case an’ be judicial. Yes, of 
course. I must be judicial.” 

“ Marshal Peters,” and President Boynton’s deep 
bass broke in sternly, “ we are four citizens of 
Danford whose word should warrant you in mak¬ 
ing any arrest at our request, and we tell you that 
we have positive evidence that this Caspar Griffith 
has once made burglarious entry into an office in 
this town, once committed a serious assault, and is 
guilty, moreover, of the felony of arson.” 

“ O, but, gentlemen, it is easy to make charges. 
Those things hain’t been proved again’ him. 
Why, Mr. Griffith is one of our leadin’ cit’zens, 
the editor of our city paper. Why, it’s a ser’ous 
thing to arrest such a man, a man with such influ¬ 
ence as he’s got. Why, we had ought to be judi¬ 
cial, gentlemen.” 

“ Calvin Peters,” put in Mr. Holworthy, “ if 


144 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


these charges are not true, it will be a serious 
thing for us that make them. But if they are true, 
— and we have positive evidence, remember, — 
then it will be a tremendously serious thing for 
you , if you refuse to make this arrest. It will land 
you in the prison from which you are trying to 
shield Griffith.” 

“ Gentlemen ! ” protested Peters, uncrossing his 
legs, his face at once becoming anxious. “ Gentle- 
men, I don’t refuse nothing. Don’t understand 
me to say as how I don’t refuse nothing. And 
of course, if you have the evidence—and he 
stopped, lost in meditation. 

Mr. Jarvis seized the marshal by the arm. His 
grip was the grip of steel. “ Mr. Peters,” said he, 
“you will come with us and make this arrest, and 
you will do it without further parley, or we shall 
at once telegraph for the sheriff of the county, 
and when he comes there will be more arrests 
than one.” 

“You need n’t be so fierce, sir,” whined the 
marshal, now thoroughly cowed. “ Of course I 
am going to make the arrest, only you are in such 
a tarnal hurry. Let me get my pistol first, though. 
This Griffith is a dangerous character. And I 
must go and tell my wife to come and mind the 
store.” 

“No, sir,” replied Mr. Jarvis sharply. “You 
don’t need a pistol if Griffith is the respectable 


CAS PAX GRIFFITH IS WANTED'. 


45 


citizen you just made him out to be, and the store 
can take care of itself for a few minutes. Or, if 
you want to tell your wife, we go along with you. 
You are not going to play us such a trick as you 
played the other day.” 

“ Well, if I must, then, I suppose I must,” said 
the doughty village officer, “ and the consequences 
be upon your own heads.” With that he slouched 
to the door, Mr. Jarvis and Elijah keeping close 
by his side, and the others following. 

They went first to the office of The Bee , as that 
was nearest. They made inquiry of the inky press- 
boy. Griffith was not there. Neither was Ned 
Record. 

They hastened to Mr. Crawford’s office. That 
gentleman turned pale at the sight of them. 

“ No, Caspar Griffith is not here,” said he with 
emphasis. “ No, I don’t know where he is, and 
what ’s more, I don’t care. I have washed my 
hands of him. I have nothing to do with him,” 
he repeated anxiously. A greatly relieved man 
was Mr. Crawford when the marshal and his escort 
passed on. 

Next to Griffith’s lodgings, which were at some 
distance. “ No,” said the landlady, “ Mr. Griffith 
is not here. He came in half an hour ago and 
went away again — 

“ The noon train ! ” cried Elijah. “ He went on 
the noon train, and Ned Record went with him ! ” 


146 


ELIJAH TOXE, CITIZEX. 


And this* cm investigation, proved to be the 
feet, nor were either of the precious pair ever seen 
in Danford again. It is aside from oar purpose to 
follow than in their career of rascality, wretched¬ 
ness, and final impriso nmen t. 


Three days after this event Ben Jarvis called at 
the Tones'. Elijah was oat, * some way, I half be¬ 
lieve Ben Jkmnsr that Elijah was oat!) bat he found 
Florence in the pleasant sitting-room, and Florence 
was darning sto cking s. 

Now, you ycxmg women may think that Flor¬ 
ence might have looked prettier if she were cro¬ 
cheting a sky-blue afghan. or painting a red cot. on 
a piece of blue china; bat I — and Ben —differ 
with you. We think — Ben and I — that nothing 
in the world is quite so dainty and fascinating as 
a pair of soft, white hands busied over a man’s 
coarse stocking. The bigger the holes, the better. 
So much the more chance for the white hand to 
peep through- 

Of course Florence did not think of this. She 
was bent 00 filling up the yawning gaps as nearly 
and as speedily as possible, and back and forth her 
bright needle sped, in and oat, in and oat, with 
warp and woof making an intercalary fabric quire 
as nicely woven as the original itself. O I tefl 
you, girls, if yon want to be absolutely irresistible. 






Florence was darning stockings, 






























































































CASPAR GRIFFITH IS WANTED. 


147 


just throw away your crazy-quilts and go to darn¬ 
ing stockings — and forget that you are irre¬ 
sistible, as Florence did. 

Now, I am not going to tell you about Ben’s 
conversation. It would not interest you. Such 
delightful affairs never do interest outsiders, as 
luckless you and I must count ourselves. Com¬ 
monplace things enough Ben said, and what Flor¬ 
ence said might possibly have been commonplace, 
were it not for the stockings. But just as Ben 
rose to go, he bethought him of the great news he 
had come to tell Elijah — or thought he had come 
to tell Elijah; and it was this : — 

“ Miss Tone, The Bee has a new editor, and you 
never in the world could guess who.” 

“ Has Mr. Crawford made his choice ? Who is 
it, pray ? ” 

“ It is Mayor Bill Downs.” 


48 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A BIT OF DETECTIVE WORK. 

All this while the work of the Christian citizen¬ 
ship committee was going merrily and profitably 
on. After the interesting evening spent in dis¬ 
cussing the public-school system came many other 
interesting evenings, each devoted to some impor¬ 
tant phase of the life of the town and the State. 
At one meeting, for instance, the streets furnished 
the topic. The head of the Milton street depart¬ 
ment was obtained for this evening, and all the 
young people’s societies of Danford, with a large 
number of older people, gathered to hear him. 

He brought with him a stereopticon, and threw 
upon a screen some instructive pictures. There 
were views, in the first place, of some of the mag¬ 
nificent roads of England, Switzerland, and Nor¬ 
way ; then, views showing how these roads were 
made and kept in repair. Cross-sections of mac¬ 
adamized roads were shown, and the lights were 
turned up, that the audience might see samples of 
the different materials used. 

Next was exhibited a series of pictures of the 


A BIT OF DETECTIVE WORK. 


149 


roads of their own country, wagons ploughing along 
hub-deep in the mud, long ruts stretching out their 
troublesome and expensive length through fre¬ 
quently used thoroughfares, roads hidden by clouds 
of dust, roads swimming in puddles, gravel side¬ 
walks pitted deeply all over with the impressions 
of sinking feet — these were some of the familiar 
scenes he showed. 

In the interesting and valuable discussion that 
followed, many points were brought out as to the 
expense attending the better system, the way the 
Danford roads were paid for, by what system, or 
lack of system, they were built and maintained, 
what officers were responsible for their condition, 
and what steps would need to be taken to bring 
about a reform. That is merely a sample of the 
evenings provided by our Christian citizenship 
committee. 

For the fuller study of each problem as it came 
up, committees of the Endeavorers were detailed, 
and their reports, presented from time to time, 
furnished one of the most interesting features of 
the gatherings. Elijah obtained especially gener¬ 
ous space in The Citizen for his accounts of these 
meetings, as they would be of interest, not only to 
Danford, but also to all the other towns in Mr. 
Hackerman’s Village Press Syndicate. 

Nor were the wider aspects of the matter for¬ 
gotten. Mr. Jarvis selected for the Endeavorers 


150 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 

the best text-book on civics, and they bought a 
sufficient number of copies for all to have a chance 
to study it, either singly, or in groups, so that fif¬ 
teen minutes of each meeting were spent in a brisk 
recitation upon the chapter read that week. This 
recitation was wholly made up of short, pointed 
questions and answers, and was always conducted 
by Mr. Jarvis himself. 

And finally, our Christian citizenship committee, 
eager to do some practical work for better citizen¬ 
ship, had cast about them and stumbled on — 
Teddy Mason ! Whether poor Teddy would have 
been thus favored had not his sister been the best 
friend of Miss Florence Tone and had not Ben 
Jarvis been chairman of this committee, I leave 
your own judgment to determine. At any rate, 
for the best of reasons, though the reasons may 
have been somewhat mixed, Ben developed an 
earnest zeal for Teddy’s welfare. 

I have said that weak-willed young Mason could 
be led by anybody. The trouble with him hitherto, 
as with thousands like him, was that the better 
class of young men had despised him and not 
taken the trouble to lead him. Satan, however, 
always finds young men who are ready to take 
trouble for him. It had been so in Teddy’s 
case. 

The attention paid Teddy by a young man so 
popular as Ben Jarvis, a graduate of Yale and the 


A BIT OF DETECTIVE WORK. I 5 I 

son of a rich and distinguished father, quite turned 
the young fellow’s head. Arm in arm with Ben, 
he would walk past the grinning and sneering 
crowd in front of the saloon or the grocery, hold¬ 
ing his head in the air and not condescending to 
look at them. 

He became fascinated with the meetings and 
the plans of the Christian citizenship committee. 
Teddy was a boy of bright brain, as well as of 
weak will. Ben found him very ready to join his 
Christian Endeavor society as an associate mem¬ 
ber, on condition that he should be placed upon 
the Christian citizenship committee; and no one 
was more zealous in that work than the young 
fellow who had been lifted home a maudlin drunk¬ 
ard only a few weeks before. 

Don’t think the lad’s appetite for liquor speedily 
passed away. His sister and his mother kept a 
constant watch upon him, and often sent for Elijah 
or Ben, begging them to follow him and prevent 
his entering the saloon. The boy wanted to do 
right, he loved his mother and sister, but — the 
saloons were there! 

All this is necessary to explain a conversation 
between Ben and Teddy— a conversation that led 
to important results. Ben had been racking his 
brain for some way to give Teddy a little more 
permanent and fundamental help. At last he 
thought he had it. 


52 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


“Teddy,” said he one day, “how would you like 
to help our committee do a little detective work ?” 

Teddy’s eyes shone. 

“ It is important work, and ought to be done, 
but we cannot stir a step in it without your help.” 

Teddy stood up straighten 

“You know Bill Malony’s saloon is playing the 
mischief with the college boys.” 

“ I should say it was! ” volunteered Teddy. 
“Why, it’s open every night until midnight, any¬ 
way, — that little room above the saloon, I mean ; 
and drinking and gambling go on there, and some 
of the tallest rows I have ever seen. Why —,” 
but Teddy stopped short, and began to be sorry he 
had said so much. 

“ I have heard of that, and Elijah tells me that 
at least half a dozen of the college boys are there 
pretty regularly.” 

“ Half a dozen ! I should say so ! Why, there 
’s —,” but again Teddy’s discretion bridled his 
tongue. 

“ I don’t care who they are, but oh, Teddy, my 
heart bleeds for their poor fathers and mothers! 
And I want you to lead a midnight raid on that 
establishment.” 

“ Me ? ” Teddy had turned pale. 

“Yes, you. You see, no one else knows the 
ropes. We must get in without surprising them. 
What I want is to get evidence that I can hold 


A BIT OF DETECTIVE IVOR AT. I 53 

over Bill Malony’s head.” Ben did n’t say that 
what he wante'd most of all was to commit Teddy 
to his side and anger the saloon-keepers against 
him. 

Well, it required long persuading, but the ad¬ 
venturousness of the project and the responsibility 
laid upon himself finally won Teddy’s consent, and 
together they went to lay the plan before the other 
masculine members of the committee. 

In this enthusiastic conference only one objec¬ 
tion was raised, and that was made by Will Hol¬ 
comb. 

“ Would it be legal ? ” he asked. “ Ought we 
not to get ourselves appointed special police, or 
deputies, or something, and have power to make 
arrests?” 

“ No, indeed,” answered Elijah. “ Such work 
is for our regular officers to do, and it is miser¬ 
able policy for private citizens, instead of compel¬ 
ling their office-holders to do their duty, to do it 
for them. What I want is to gather sufficient un¬ 
doubted evidence of Bill Malony’s illegal deeds to 
force our village authorities to take action, or, if 
they will not move, to urge the town to put them 
out of office:” 

“ But would it be quite safe ? ” continued Will; 
“there are probably some pretty desperate charac¬ 
ters at Bill Malony’s at midnight.” 

For answer Elijah stood up straight with all of 


154 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 

his seventy-three inches. “ Most of the town- 
loafers are cowards,” he said, “and the life those 
midnight men lead does not tend to strengthen 
the muscles. Besides, when we have added James 
Arnold and Tom Barnaby we shall have the centre 
rush of the football team, you know, and the 
catcher of the nine. Altogether, we shall be a 
match for as many tipsy men as Bill Malony 
can crowd into that little up-stairs room of his. 
But I have been thinking of one thing — we 
ought to have some older person to go along 
with us to give weight to our testimony when it 
is published in The Citizen; and, fellows, I have 
a scheme! ” 

President Boynton was busy at his desk that 
afternoon, but he looked up with a hearty smile to 
greet two visitors, —Ben Jarvis, and Tom Barnaby, 
the catcher. The latter was one of the president’s 
special favorites, being as sturdy in character as 
in body, and as quick with his brain as with his 
hands. 

“ Dr. Boynton,” began Ben, “ we have come on 
a rather strange errand. You know there is a 
pretty bad saloon in town.” 

“ Four bad saloons — they are all bad,” cor¬ 
rected the president. 

“Yes, sir, but one of them is particularly bad; 
I mean Bill Malony’s. The town ordinance re¬ 
quires saloons to close at ten o’clock, and so does 


A BIT OF DETECTIVE WORK\ I 55 

his — down-stairs; but he lives in the building, 
and he has a little room above his saloon which he 
keeps open all night. Gambling goes on there, 
as well as drinking and fighting, and, from what 
I hear, this up-stairs room leads to worse evils 
than any of these. Now, Dr. Boynton, some of 
the students of Colestone College go there reg¬ 
ularly.” 

The president’s face darkened at once. “The 
poor boys! ” murmured he; and then aloud: 
“ What you say, Jarvis, is no surprise to me. On 
more nights than one I have watched by that ac¬ 
cursed building to try to save some young man 
from ruin. I could tell you of many a tragedy 
that has its seat in that upper room.” 

“Well, sir, a few of us young men have taken 
up the duty of being better citizens of Danford, 
and we are going to make a raid on that place to¬ 
night, if you will go with us.” 

The president was taken by surprise. 

“Why, Jarvis, what could we do ? We are not 
officers.” 

“We could use our eyes, and afterwards tell 
what we saw. The evidence we should collect 
would be spread abroad, and would manufacture 
the sentiment we need to carry the election. Be¬ 
sides, we should discover some young men in there 
whom we might help.” 

“And about that, Mr. President,” spoke up 


156 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


Tom Barnaby ; “about that, just a word. You 
see, some of us are students now, and some of us 
have been students, and we don’t any of us want 
to go into this thing unless you will let this expe¬ 
rience go just as a warning to the boys that are 
found in there. We don’t want to have these fel¬ 
lows say we play the spy on them, you know, and 
yet we do want to get them out of such a devil’s 
den as that is.” 

Dr. Boynton frowned; then he laughed. 

“ I might stand on my dignity, Barnaby,” he re¬ 
plied, “and say that, having asked for my pres¬ 
ence, you ought not to lay down conditions, or 
imply distrust of the wisdom of the faculty; and 
yet I think, if I were in your place, I should speak 
just as you have spoken. I think I can agree to 
your terms. If I go along, it shall be not as an 
avenging fury, but just as you go — as a friend. 
But I am not by any means certain I shall go 
along. How do you plan to get in ? Don’t you 
know that saloon is almost as well fortified as a 
castle ? ” 

Then the two young men told the president all of 
their plans, and won his entire and hearty consent 
to them. He suggested a few wise changes, they 
fixed a place of meeting, and Ben and Tom Bar¬ 
naby hurried away to report their success to the 
waiting committee. 

Rapidly indeed sped the hours, to those excited 


A BIT OF DETECTIVE WORK,\ 157 

young reformers, and it seemed scarcely a minute 
before the evening came. Elijah’s home was the 
meeting-place of the band, as being the nearest 
to the objective point. Mr. Tone had entered 
into the plot with quite as much eagerness as his 
son, the picture of that journey to the glen still 
fresh in his memory. He had even half a mind 
to offer himself as a member of the expedition. 

It was half-past ten o’clock when the first of the 
amateur detectives appeared. Florence hardly 
recognized Ben in his rough suit of paint-bespat¬ 
tered clothes, a dirty slouch hat pulled down over 
his face. 

A motley company soon filled the parlor, for all 
the young men had donned the worst-looking 
clothes they could obtain, to throw the watchers 
off their guard. Teddy had visited each member 
of the band that afternoon, and inspected their 
costume with the eye of a professional detective. 

Dr. Boynton was not late, but he was the last 
arrival; and his attire excited a merry shout, for 
his Herculean form was robed in some garments 
that had actually done service, he explained, as a 
scarecrow in his strawberry patch. 

It was the president who proposed that such an 
expedition as theirs should begin with prayer, and 
it was his own strong and earnest voice that in¬ 
voked God’s blessing upon their undertaking and 
upon the young men they were going to meet. 


i5« 


ELIJAH TONE, CITIZEN. 


In their hearts, if not with their voices, all his fol¬ 
lowers added earnest “ Amens.” 

It was fifteen minutes after eleven when the 
company set forth, eight in all, and with quiet, 
steady tread marched along the deserted village 
streets. 


A PITCHED BATTLE. 


59 


CHAPTER XVII. 

A PITCHED BATTLE. 

Our party of amateur detectives were upon an 
errand which even by daylight would have held 
sufficient excitement, and at this lonely hour 
abroad, amid these sleeping houses, no wonder 
their hearts beat high and their breath came quick. 
They talked in brief whispers, standing together 
in the darkness just across the street from the 
suspected saloon. 

No ray of light gleamed from its lower windows, 
but from the closely curtained front of the upper 
story shone a stray glimmer. 

“ They are in that right-hand room,” whispered 
Teddy, with a queer shake in his voice. “ We 
turn to the right, back of the bar, go along a long 
hallway and up a steep pair of stairs, — look out 
for bumping your heads, —and go right in by the 
door at the head of the stairs.” 

“ And don’t hesitate a second, boys,” said Dr. 
Boynton. “ Just march right on briskly, as if it 
were Lookout Mountain and you had a redoubt to 
capture.” 


l60 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 

“ And keep dose together, fellows,” whispered 
Ben. 

“ And, by the way,” spoke up the president 
sharply, “ there are no pistols here, I hope ? ” 

“ Not one,” answered Elijah; “ why should 
there be ? ” 

But Will Holcomb stammered : “ Why, yes, I 
have one. Why not ? ” 

“Then let me have it,” answered President 
Boynton. “You might use it, in some excitement, 
and ruin your whole life. We are on a peaceable 
errand, boys” ; and the president put the weapon 
carefully away in an inside pocket. 

All were familiar with the plan. While five of 
them remained behind in the dense shadows, 
Teddy, Tom Barnaby, and James Arnold walked 
rapidly and boldly across the street, and Teddy 
knocked on the saloon door, at the same time 
giving a peculiar whistle. An up-stairs window 
was raised, and a husky voice asked who was 
there. 

“ Teddy Mason and a couple of the boys. Hurry 
up, Mikey. Come now, stir your pegs.” 

The window was softly lowered, and straightway 
five others were added to the waiting group. 
There was a fumbling at the lock, a cautious open¬ 
ing of the door, and a tow-headed Irish boy ap¬ 
peared, carrying a kerosene lamp. 

His light prevented his seeing distinctly into 


A PITCHED BATTLE . l6l 

the darkness, but he cried in surprise : “ Sure, 
Teddy, ye can’t count. There are more than 
three of ye the night.” 

“Yes, we ’re quite a gang. Go ahead with the 
lamp, Mikey, there ’s a good boy, and show us 
the way. And step lively, now, for we ’re late 
for the fun.” 

Elijah and Ben, and the others known to the 
Irish lad, had pulled their hats well down and 
stood in the shadow of the college boys. A glance 
at their rough clothes seemed to satisfy young 
Mikey, and he turned and led the way up-stairs. 

The eight behind him walked quietly, some of 
them on tiptoe, and it was not until he reached the 
turn at the top of the narrow stairs that their 
guide realized what a long row of men he was'con¬ 
ducting. The lad’s sharp eye fell upon Dr. Boyn¬ 
ton’s tall form, and a quick glance told him the 
whole story. 

“ Dad ! Dad ! ” he screamed, “ they ’re on us ! 
they ’re on us! ” and he scampered into a room to 
the right. 

“ Don’t follow him ! ” shouted Teddy. “ In 
here ! ” and he burst open a door that fronted the 
stairs, his eager band at his heels. 

A fierce, loud volley of oaths greeted them, and 
a rush of men from the little room to oppose their 
entrance. Against the angry efforts of the quicker 
of these they forced their way in. 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


162 

The den was small, foul with tobacco smoke and 
the smell of whiskey, and it held about a dozen 
men. Two or three of these were scarcely roused 
from their drunken stupor by all the outcry, and 
merely looked around them in a silly way and 
wagged their heads to and fro. 

Two greasy tables were covered with cards, bot¬ 
tles, and coarse glasses. A shelf was well stocked 
with liquors. 

“ Dhrive ’em out, boys! ” yelled Bill Malony, 
springing upon James Arnold like a tiger. But he 
speedily found his arms pinioned to his -sides with 
the vise-like clasp of the young athlete. 

At the same moment one of the foremost of 
those that had rushed up and intercepted the in¬ 
vaders, a man crazed by drink, drew out of his * 
hip-pocket a revolver that glittered in the lamp¬ 
light. Elijah quickly snatched it from his hand. 

One young fellow, at sight of the president, made 
a plunge with averted face to get by the intruders 
and away, without being seen. But Dr. Boynton 
was too quick for him, and seized him around the 
neck. 

“ Why, Edgar Alton! ” he exclaimed in great 
surprise and sorrow ; “ who would have dreamed of 
seeing you here ? My poor boy ! how could you ? ” 

A flood of villanous curses from Malony. 

“ Lemme go ! Lemme go, I tell you ! What 
are you doing here in a man’s house without his 


A PITCHED BATTLE. 


163 


permission ? You threspassers ! you burglars! you 
sneaks ! I ’ll take the law on ye, sure’s my name’s 
Bill Malony.” 

“This seems to be a public enough place, Ma¬ 
lony,” answered the president. 

“Ye forced yer way in. I was enthertainin’ a 
party o’ my friends, and ye forced yerself in. I ’ll 
jail ye, iv’ry wan o’ ye ! ” spluttered the irate saloon¬ 
keeper, as he struggled in vain to free himself. 

“ And we will have the law on you , Malony,” 
said the president sternly, “ for selling liquor after 
ten o’clock and for keeping a gambling-house.” 
With this he coolly proceeded to fill a small bottle 
he had brought with him, taking a sample from one 
of the half-drained glasses. “ And here ’s ten 
cents, Malony,” he added, “ to pay for what I take. 
It is the first drink I ever bought in my life.” 

“ I am not a-sellin’ dhrinks the noight, Mishter 
Boynton, I ’d have you to know. If I choose to 
treat my friends to a glass or two, whose business 
is it ? And there’s no gambling going on here. 
Only just a quiet game o’ cards.” 

“It was gambling!” burst out Edgar Alton, the 
student whose escape the president had prevented; 
“ and they have got all the money I had to carry 
me through this term. O my poor mother! ” and 
the wretched fellow broke down. Throwing him¬ 
self on a bench, he buried his head in his arm and 
sobbed hysterically. 


164 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


“I ’ve got it in for you, Jim Arnold, you sneak, 
you spy, you tittle-tattle! ” cried a half-drunken 
student. 

“An’ I’ve got it in for you, Ted Mason!” roared 
Malony, whereat Teddy swelled up with impor¬ 
tance, and Elijah chuckled. 

All this had occurred in a flash of time. There 
were four students in the room, besides Alton. 
Two of them sat with white, despairing faces, star¬ 
ing gloomily at the floor. The other two were mut¬ 
tering angrily, now to each other and now to the 
knot of brutal men, partly colored, who were gath¬ 
ered at the farther end of the room, casting dark 
glances in the direction of Malony, and evidently 
intending a rush for his benefit. 

But President Boynton, in a few decisive words, 
ended the matter. 

“ Malony, I hold evidence enough against you to 
throw you into jail. I will use it, if you don’t stop 
this night business and quit selling liquor to college 
students and minors. Mathews, these young men 
come here openly, as your friends. They stipu¬ 
lated that I should not punish you for to-night’s 
proceedings, only warn you. You will see, some 
day, that you have n’t in all this world any bet¬ 
ter friends than these young men. But oh, boys! 
boys ! I am so sorry for you ! ” and the presi¬ 
dent, his massive form dignified in spite of his 
scarecrow garments, reached out his arms as if he 


A PITCHED BATTLE. 


165 


would enfold the culprits. “ I don’t want to punish 
you, boys; I want to help you. For the sake of 
your loving fathers and mothers, for the sake of 
the strong manhood that is possible for you, and 
the world that needs pure and true men, I want to 
help you out of these temptations and besotting 
sins and into your better selves again. And won’t 
you let me ? Alton, you have one of the best in¬ 
tellects in the college. Will you drag it down to 
the level of a brute ? Mathews, your mother is 
living a life of poverty and toil to send you to 
school. Is this your gratitude to her ? Carter, 
I saw your beautiful sister the other day. Are 
you going to make her the sister of a drunkard ? 
White, your family is one of the noblest in the 
annals of the State. Will you pull its proud name 
into the mire ? Hunter, when your good father 
brought you to college, and left you in my hands, 
he told me that three times a day he would kneel 
to God in prayer for his dear son. Oh, what if he 
could see you now ! I want to talk this matter over 
with each of you some time to-morrow. I shall be 
in my study at three o’clock in the afternoon. Till 
then, look at your lives seriously, and pray as you 
never have prayed before, and make up your minds 
to become men. If any of you ” — addressing 
himself to the entire roomful — “ have won money 
from Edgar Alton, I warn you that your safest 
plan will be to return it to him as soon as possible. 


1 66 ELIJAH TONE, CITIZEN. 

And now I want to see this room cleared. Stand 
aside, boys, and let those men out. Home with 
you, men, to your poor wives and children, and I 
hope you will have the grace to be ashamed of 
yourselves. Now march ! ” 

The president looked like a general giving his 
orders, and those village loafers were not the men 
to disobey him. Sullenly they slouched from the 
room, some of them pulled along by their com¬ 
rades, all of them growling and muttering, — a 
foul and brutal rabble. 

“ Faugh ! ” exclaimed the president; “ that col¬ 
lege men should choose such company ! Let 
Malony go, Arnold; and I advise you, sir, to get 
into a decent business. Now boys, fall in, and 
let ’s to bed. I am sure it is high time.” 

With that, the students and the village lads filed 
down the narrow stairs, lighted by the lamp which 
Teddy had taken from the room above; made their 
way past the bar, not without a wild desire on 
Elijah’s part to propose emptying its entire con¬ 
tents into the gutter; closed the door behind them, 
and breathed once more the pure air of heaven. 

The five guilty students slunk along behind, nor 
did any one try to draw them into conversation. 
Indeed, every one’s head and heart were too full 
for talk. Only after the college contingent had 
turned off toward the dormitories, and Ben and 
Elijah and Teddy were left alone, did the latter 


A PITCHED BATTLE. 


67 


give vent to his emotions : “ I tell you, fellows, I 
never realized before to-night what a mean, low- 
down set that saloon crowd is. But oh, was n’t 
the president a rouser, though ? ” 

With which conclusion of the evening’s work, 
if with nothing else, Elijah was abundantly satis¬ 
fied. 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


168 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

BEN MAKES TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS. 

There was one meeting in the series of Chris¬ 
tian Endeavor studies in citizenship that I wish I 
could report fully. It was the meeting that dis¬ 
cussed the temperance laws. 

After the brisk questioning on the evening’s 
section of the text-book, conducted by Mr. Jarvis, 
Mrs. Barton took charge of affairs. Now Mrs. 
Barton was an enthusiast and not a crank, and 
there is as much difference between the two as 
between a windmill buzzing alone and a windmill 
hitched on to something; for a human crank, 
strange to say, goes spinning around perpetually 
on the same centre, and never turns anything ex¬ 
cept himself. 

This temperance worker was familiar with the 
practical, and not merely the theoretical, side of 
the vast temperance problem. As a convenient 
way of beginning at the beginning, she took up 
first the temperance education, at last compulsory 
in the public schools; told how much time was 
spent in the study, showed the text-books and 


BEN MAKES TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS. 169 

charts that were used, and went through a few 
simple experiments ; exhibited some specimen ex¬ 
amination papers in this subject ; outlined the 
probable effect of all this upon the character of 
the coming citizens. 

Next Mrs. Barton discussed the State laws con¬ 
cerning the sale of liquor, and the local laws regu¬ 
lating saloons ; showed how far the people were 
empowered to abolish the dreadful traffic, what 
sets of officers were responsible for the enforce¬ 
ment of the laws, and how the laws could be im¬ 
proved. She gave interesting facts regarding 
licenses, their number, their cost, their increase, 
and the apparent results of the license policy. 
She compared the condition of their State with 
others that had different liquor laws. 

Finally, she spoke of the effects of the drink 
evil, showing, by figures from their own county 
institutions, the connection between strong drink 
and prisons, poorhouses, and insane asylums. 

At the close of her straightforward talk, to which 
every one had listened eagerly, the questioner — (a 
regular official; Sarah Parsons held the post for her 
ready wits, retentive memory, and quick tongue) — 
the questioner spent five minutes in a breezy “ quiz ” 
on the entire ground covered by Mrs. Barton ; and 
then came the discussion. 

I cannot report this discussion. Suffice it to say 
that it was very earnest, and that its chief interest 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


170 

seemed to centre about one provision of the State 
law, abolishing saloons within two miles of a col¬ 
lege. To most of the young people present this 
was news. “Who should enforce this law?” they 
asked. 

“The council.” 

“ Has any one tried to get them to enforce it ? ” 

“Yes, President Boynton, and many others.” 

“ What excuse do they give ? ” 

“ They call for a definite charge, with evidence. 
They speak of the expense and uncertainty and 
risks of a trial. These excuses all mean that they 
will have nothing to do with the matter.” 

“ But we can make them do it,” spoke up Elijah ; 
“if that is the law, we can compel them to do it. 
What is the first step to take, do you think, Mrs. 
Barton ? ” 

“Would n’t it be better,” asked Mr. Jarvis, 
“since this matter affects the college so vitally, 
for the first move to come from the faculty and 
the students ? ” 

This was agreed to, and Ben, the chairman of 
the Christian citizenship committee, was deputed 
to get, if possible, a meeting of the students, and 
lay the whole matter before them, that the petition 
might come from the persons themselves for whose 
protection the law had been passed. 

Ben went to work at once. 

President Boynton gladly agreed to the proposed 


BEN MAKES TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS. iyi 

meeting, and, after consulting several of the pro¬ 
fessors, fixed a time for it on the very next day. 

Unfortunately Dr. Boynton was called away from 
the chapel exercises that morning. The members 
of the faculty took turns in leading in morning 
prayers, which all the students were compelled to 
attend. The leader for that morning was Profes¬ 
sor Graham, who had taken his degree of doctor 
of philosophy in a German university, and had 
imbibed in that country not only large quantities 
of the native beer, but also the loosest sort of no¬ 
tions on the entire question of drinking. He was 
quite proud of these “ liberal ideas,” as he called 
them, and considered them no small part of the 
distinction won by Continental training. It was 
very unfortunate, therefore, that it was to Profes¬ 
sor Graham that Ben handed for reading his care¬ 
fully worded call for the meeting of students, merely 
telling him that it had received the president's ap¬ 
proval. 

After the hymn and before the Scripture lesson, 
Professor Graham adjusted his eye-glasses, and read 
the notice to himself, frowning as he did so. Then 
he said aloud : “ A notice somewhat fanatically 
worded has been handed to me to read. It calls 
for a temperance meeting of the students of this 
college, to be held in this room at one o’clock. 
President Boynton has given his permission for 
this meeting, and so I suppose it will be held, pro- 


172 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


vided there are enough narrow-minded students to 
constitute a meeting.” Whereupon he proceeded 
to read the account of the miracle at Cana. 

During this proceeding Ben was raging in his 
seat. He determined quickly on a bold step. His 
thoughts were so occupied with it that I fear he 
paid no attention whatever to Professor Graham’s 
formal prayer. The “Amen” at the close, how¬ 
ever, sent him promptly to his feet before the pro¬ 
fessor had bowed to dismiss the assembly. His 
clear voice rung out sharply and distinctly. 

“Professor Collins,” said he, addressing the 
senior member of the faculty, who sat in the fac¬ 
ulty seats facing the students, “ Professor Collins, 
may I say a few words in regard to that notice ? ” 

At once the students’ hum, premonitory of de¬ 
parture, was hushed. 

Professor Collins was one that had been con¬ 
sulted by the president on the preceding evening, 
and he had been indignant at Professor Graham’s 
unfair and unrighteous treatment of Ben’s notice; 
but he was a very easy-going man, and had let 
things take their course. 

“ Why, yes,” said he, with some hesitation, “ if 
you have anything to add, and if you will be 
brief.” 

Whereupon Ben, who was to address so many 
crowded audiences in later life, launched forth into 
his first real speech. For though the young man 


BEN MANES TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS . 173 

had spoken in many a Yale debate, yet never be¬ 
fore had his oratory sprung from life to be directed 
toward life, and that is what makes true oratory. 

His words were simple, but they were spoken 
with fire : “ I saw something a few nights ago 
that has remained in my mind ever since. It was 
at midnight. A company of us had made an un¬ 
expected entrance into one of the town saloons. 
The lower part was dark and closed, as the law re¬ 
quires for that time of night; but above it there 
was a room fit to be one of the chambers of hell. 
There we found men, the most vile of the commu¬ 
nity, men out of whom the accursed liquor had 
driven their intellect, their manliness, and all kind¬ 
liness of heart. The air was stifling with tobacco, 
the tables were foul with whiskey splashes, the 
fever called gambling had taken equal steps with 
the frenzy of drunkenness. And there, amid this 
degradation and a part of it, sinking in it as low as 
the lowest, we found young men of this college. 
They were freely yielding up, at the flip of a card, 
their fathers’ hard-earned money. That devil’s 
gymnasium was softening their muscles and poi¬ 
soning their lungs and weakening their hearts. In 
that Satanic school they were unlearning all that 
is noble, and fast making it impossible to learn 
even what is useful. Oh! young men, it was 
awful, that midnight scene, awful in its very stu¬ 
pidity, and in the fact that men who came here to 


174 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


rise so high could be dragged down so low. And 
yet this is going on year after year, and we are 
doing nothing to stop it. And this, though we 
could do everything to stop it. There is a law in 
this State that looks to the abolition of all saloons 
within two miles of a college. To this law we 
should appeal. It is to make that appeal that the 
meeting is called for this afternoon. Let every 
one come to that meeting. If he thinks the plan 
fanatical and foolish, let him come to oppose it. 
But if he thinks these saloons hurtful in the high¬ 
est degree to the reputation of this college, a 
constant, crafty menace to the young men here 
brought together, then let him come determined 
to do what he can for their destruction.” 

This outburst, delivered with all of Ben’s vigor 
and with a flash in his eye and a manly, upright 
bearing, won from the students a round of hearty 
applause. “ Good ! ” cried Professor Collins aloud, 
at the same time slapping his knee. Professor 
Graham dismissed the young men with a curt nod, 
and without saying another word. Ben was 
quickly surrounded by a group of students mak¬ 
ing eager inquiries concerning the law he had 
mentioned, and promising their earnest support in 
whatever measures he might wish adopted. Ben 
saw that the afternoon meeting would be a grand 
success. 

And indeed it was. I will not describe it, but 


BEN MANES TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS. 175 

rather will tell you of a very important decision to 
which Ben Jarvis was led by these events. 

He was walking home with Florence Tone from 
the next evening meeting of the citizenship series. 
It had been occupied with a very interesting study 
of the poor laws and the county charities ; but that 
is neither here nor there. Elijah had remained 
behind to attend a meeting of some subcommittee, 
and Ben was seeing Florence home. Why Ben ? 
Well, never mind. 

Florence’s sweet face was doubly sweet in the 
moonlight, and Ben was moved by its seriousness 
to speak seriously of some ideas that had lately 
come into his head. 

“Do you know, Miss Tone,” said he, “I really 
believe, after trying about twenty trades and pro¬ 
fessions, I have found my calling at last.” 

Florence’s voice was not bantering, but heartily 
congratulatory, as she answered : “ I am very glad, 
for I know what a trial it must be not to be able to 
find one’s niche in life. What is yours? ” 

“ Well, now, don’t laugh,” Ben entreated ; “ but 
I really think I ought — and want — to be a poli¬ 
tician.” 

“Mr. Jarvis!” cried Florence, in great sur¬ 
prise. 

“ I thought so. And that is the way every one 
will speak about it. But of course I don’t mean 
what is ordinarily meant by ‘politician.’ I mean 


176 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


the word in its old sense — a man that does for 
cities what a statesman does for states ; a man that 
makes citizenship his business, his one occupa¬ 
tion.” 

“You mean holding offices, like councilman and 
marshal and mayor ? ” asked Florence, wrinkling 
her pretty brows. 

“Yes,” replied Ben stoutly, “but in the first 
place preparing myself to hold office, learning more 
than any other citizen knows about the office and 
its duties, finding what will better the life of others, 
make it more comfortable, safer, and happier, learn¬ 
ing how to persuade them to accept what they 
need and not merely what they want. The pay 
for such work is small, so far as money goes; but 
I don’t need money; I am rich. I want to do 
something I am fitted to do and something that is 
greatly needed, and I am sure this is it. I had no 
heart to force my way into the overcrowded pro¬ 
fessions, but here is a call that most men of train¬ 
ing and character shun; and I think it the noblest 
of all, next to the minister’s. I want to study and 
get all kinds of practical knowledge, and work my 
way up from small posts to the largest I can reach, 
— the legislature, or the governor’s chair, if possi¬ 
ble, — because these places give the widest oppor¬ 
tunity to do good. It is not through ambition. If 
it were, the way would be full of snares. But, if I 
know myself, I shall be a politician for the good of 


BEN MAKES TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS. 177 

my fellow men and the glory of God. Would n’t 
you like to see me such a man ? ” 

Ben’s words were spoken most eagerly, but very 
low. Yet lower still was Florence’s reply. 

“ I think it is a noble aim, Mr. Jarvis. May 
God lead you in it.” 

“Good!” said Ben. “I knew you would ap¬ 
prove, when you understood my purpose. Yes, 
may God lead me in it. For I think I shall go 
out on an errand as holy as that of the first dis¬ 
ciples. It also will be an errand to men’s souls as 
well as to their minds and bodies. And oh, Miss 
Florence,” — Ben’s voice quivered in its earnest¬ 
ness, — “I do not want to enter on my life-work 
alone. I want —.” 

Ah, tut ! tut! what am I doing ? How I have 
let my gossiping pen run on ! What right have 
we to listen here, I should like to know ? I hope 
I understand my business better than to report a 
conversation and a scene like that. Was it not 
moonlight ? Did not the vine over the Tone porch 
cast a beautiful shadow? And what more could 
you — or Ben — desire? 


i ;8 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


CHAPTER XIX. 

MR. HACKERMAN IN HIS TRUE COLORS. 

Of course, during all the events I have been re¬ 
lating the battle of the papers was carried on. So 
lively did Elijah make it that even the bitterest 
foes of reform in Danford had to buy or borrow 
The Citizen to see what he had to say. The sneer¬ 
ing sarcasm of Caspar Griffith and of his successor, 
Bill Downs, together with Elijah’s strong and cut¬ 
ting replies, were a lasting town topic. 

For Bill Downs was a worthy successor to Cas¬ 
par Griffith. Indeed, he made The Bee more des¬ 
picable and at the same time more dangerous than 
ever before. All the low gossip was there, and 
this flattery of people who should not have been 
noticed was doubly flattering because it was the 
mayor who wrote it. In addition, however, Downs 
possessed a craftiness that Griffith lacked. 

For instance, he made the most of the contrast 
between his own “practical experience” and the 
“ theory ” of Mr. Jarvis —an innuendo very effec¬ 
tive with the populace in such reform campaigns. 
“The city,” he would write, “is building a new 


MR. HA CHER MAN IN HIS TRUE COLORS. 179 

culvert across Water Street — another proof of the 
enterprise of the present administration. Suppose 
Mr. Moonshine were Mayor Moonshine, as he wants 
to be ? We should all have to go around up to 
our necks in mud while he was getting up in his 
library a plan to boil the mud and extract the water 
and use the dry dirt to make bricks of. Do you 
catch on, you voters ? ” 

In response to this, Elijah wrote a sly little let¬ 
ter from an imaginary visitor in Danford to his 
home folks, graphically describing the streets of 
that city, telling how he lost his overshoes in the 
mud-hole in front of the post-office, cut a hole in 
his shoes on the sharp stones left in front of the 
Presbyterian Church, got his best clothes covered 
with dirt by slipping on a dark night into the cul¬ 
vert on Walnut Street, one of whose stones had 
been missing for more than a year, and finally 
broke his leg by a fall over one of the stones for 
the new culvert on Water Street, the stone afore¬ 
said being left on a dark night in the middle of the 
sidewalk. He begged his relatives to get him, as 
soon as possible, out of a town so wretchedly man¬ 
aged, and he was their unfortunate cousin, Jedidiah 
Commonsense. 

If I had space here for extended quotations, you 
would see that Elijah put his whole soul into his 
work on The Citizen. His love for the art of writ¬ 
ing— that most difficult of all arts — grew with 


8 o 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


its exercise. He made its every feature a careful 
study. For instance, ever after his critical scan¬ 
ning of that first number, he had set himself to 
learning how to write effective paragraphs. “ Peo¬ 
ple,” he reasoned, “do not go to a newspaper for 
extended arguments, long descriptions, and the like. 
The readers have not time for them, nor has the 
paper space for them, — such a paper, at least, as 
mine. I must make my points in flashes. The 
task is to brighten the flashes.” 

So he turned out arrowlike, slim little paragraphs 
such as these : — 

“ Recipe for a model school director : First, take 
a political pull in Danford; second — but that’s 
all that is needed.” 

“ What is the difference between our citizens’ 
ticket and the decrepit fence around the city hall 
and town jail ? Answer: The first is going up¬ 
ward and the second Down(s)ward.” 

“Mayor is from the Latin for greater. Let’s 
translate that etymology into fact.” 

“ The way to hell is paved with good intentions. 
Giving our street commissioner credit for all the 
good intentions in the world, yet we would remind 
him that Main Street is in Danford and not in the 
other place.” 

Pretty rough specimens of the paragrapher’s art 
Elijah recognized these to be, in the later days 
when he won fame as an author and editor ; but 


MR. HACKERMAN IN HIS TRUE COLORS. 18 1 


they were a deal better than anything in that line 
Danford had before received. Nor did Elijah 
confine his pen to paragraphs. Though greatly 
cramped in the space placed at his disposal by the 
Village Press Syndicate plan, yet he contrived to 
find room for occasional essays and poems; yes, 
poems, for not all his varied and exciting experi¬ 
ences had driven the poetry out of his soul, and he 
still found rhyming as great a delight as on the 
day when we made his acquaintance, the day of 
the lawn-mower poem and of Mr. Hackerman. 

Only, his poems were no longer concerned with 
“fame” and similar ambitious themes. Indeed, 
they were often merely the light and pleasant 
chronicling of village events, and sometimes they 
were only such squibs as the following: — 


There ’s a saying full of mettle, 

Shot at gabbling girls and boys, 

Which declares the empty kettle 
Is the one that makes the noise. 

Bah! a kettle, when it ’s empty, 

Is invariably dumb, 

Till some urchin, to torment ye, 

Kicks or beats it like a drum. 

Do you want to change the stupid 
From a tongue-tied, numskull thing ? 

Put him on a red-hot stove-lid, 

Fill him up, and hear him sing! 

Ah, the world has drums a plenty — 
Men of vacancy and sound, 

Men whose heads and words are empty, 
And who speak when others pound. 


182 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


But if you would have a talker 
That can get up steam apace, 
Pour into him truths like water, 
Put him in a red-hot place! 


Rhymes like these, and bright little essays on 
topics of the times, began to be copied into The 
Citizen's exchanges. They were written anony¬ 
mously, which was a wise plan for a young author 
just learning his art, but every quotation of them 
pleased our editor extremely, because it showed 
him that he was making progress in his well-loved 
work. 

It would be a pleasure, if I had time, to describe 
more in detail Elijah’s journalistic triumphs, to tell 
you how he made his paper the recognized medium 
for church and religious news, the chronicle of no¬ 
ble and kindly deeds, the repository of all that was 
bright, funny, and helpful in the town life, and how 
thus Elijah brought to a marked issue, in opposi¬ 
tion to The Bee , the question of vulgarity and gos¬ 
sip versus purity and manliness. And that The 
Citizen grew daily in the number of subscribers 
and the favor of the advertisers is only what might 
have been expected. 

Our young reformer had been compelled to look 
a little on the money side of things. After his 
repulse by the town school board, and their selec¬ 
tion of an utterly incompetent superintendent, he 
had made vigorous attempts to obtain one of the 


MR. HACKERMAN IN HIS TRUE COLORS. 183 

district schools near by, but without success. For 
all that were vacant there were many applicants, 
and the farmers who made up the district “ school 
committee” had in each case picked out their man 
or their woman — often influenced by some per¬ 
sonal pique or favoritism, I am sorry to say — be¬ 
fore Elijah put in his application. He had been 
compelled, therefore, to bring Mr. Hackerman to 
terms, and, after much evasion and sputtering, that 
worthy had agreed that Elijah might retain for his 
share ten per cent of all receipts from subscrip¬ 
tions, job-work, and advertising. With this, by 
dint of the most persistent toil, Elijah was making 
a fair living from The Citizen , and he was glori¬ 
ously happy in his work. 

One day Mr. Hackerman came blustering into 
Elijah’s office, dropping in unexpectedly “between 
trains,” as was his wont. 

“ Well, making it go, eh ? making it go ? ” he 
said, after Elijah had presented his report, and 
handed over quite a large sum to the secretary of 
the Village Press Syndicate. 

“ Yes, sir,” answered Elijah, beaming. “ I really 
think we will elect Mr. Jarvis mayor. And that 
will be a glorious victory for better citizenship.” 

Mr. Hackerman’s brow darkened. 

“ Now, that is one of the things I wanted to talk 
to you about. First-rate gag at the start, this re¬ 
form racket. Worked like a charm. Great thing, 


184 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


and I compliment you on it. But don’t you think 
it has gone far enough now, eh ? ” 

“Why,” stammered Elijah, “what do you 
mean ? ” 

“ Mean ? Why, we ’ve bagged the reformers, 
got the best element. Now what ’s the matter 
with trying for the other set, eh ? Scoop the 
whole thing.” 

“ Do you mean that we are to truckle to the 
very men we have been fighting, and adopt their 
spirit ? ” 

“O no, no, no! You don’t get me at all! 
Don’t truckle, don’t give in, keep a stiff upper lip, 
you know. But get down off your high horse a 
little. These saloon-keepers ain’t wholly bad. Bill 
Downs has his good points. Get down among the 
masses. Would it not be a good thing for all 
the loafers in town to read The Citizen instead of 
The Bee , eh ? ” 

“ I see your idea, Mr. Hackerman,” said Elijah, 
hot with indignation. “You want me to insist less 
on reform, now that it has accomplished the low 
end of winning you a subscription list, and you 
want me to curry favor with the baser elements. 
I tell you right away, sir, that I will never do it, 
never! And what is more, sir, if such a step were 
taken — 

“ O, tut, tut, tut, tut! How quick you fire up! 
Of course we won’t do nothing to pull the sky 


MR. HACKERMAN IN HIS TRUE COLORS. 185 

down, don’t you worry. You just keep ca’m. Run 
your reform business ’f you want to. I won’t say 
a word. I ’ve got a little deal on hand I thought 
it might help along, that’s all. But I guess I ’m 
sure enough of making it go, anyway. I must skip 
now to get that 2:35. Be good to yourself. Ta-ta.” 
And Mr. Hackerman ran lightly out of the office, 
leaving behind him a greatly disgusted subordinate. 

With dampened ardor, yet none the less, Elijah 
went on with his plans for a final grand campaign 
number of The Citizen. The number would appear 
two days before election, and he proposed for once 
to omit all news items, and convert it into a political 
broadside. In that number all the strong points 
he had made were to be made over again with re¬ 
newed emphasis. All the arguments he could 
muster were to be used, and a whole battery of 
facts, indictments, and common sense was to open 
up on the enemy. Every voter in town was to 
receive a copy. It was to be a magnum opus. 

Just two days before this proposed climax of the 
campaign, Elijah’s morning mail contained the fol¬ 
lowing brief note: — 

“Mr. Elijah Tone 

“ Sir, etc — Having to inform you that I have sold to Mr. 
Crawford, prop’r of the Bee the good will, stock etc of the Citizen 
I advise you that your services as editor will be no longer needed 
by me maybe Mr. Downs cd use you for assistant. In haste 
“ Yrs rspy 


S. Hackerman.” 


86 


ELIJAH TONE, CITIZEN. 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE CITIZEN AND THE EMERGENCY. 

Elijah’s surprise, disgust, and dismay were in¬ 
expressible. Thus to be betrayed, and at such a 
crisis! When he told P. T., the little fellow’s 
eyes flashed, and his white hands clinched fiercely. 

“ A mean trick! A nasty, mean trick ! ” he 
cried. 

Elijah hurried off to tell the news to Ben, and 
on the way he stopped to pour his woes into Flor¬ 
ence’s sympathizing ears. 

“Poor bubby ! ” exclaimed his sister; “you have 
made your plans so well and set so much store by 
them. But never mind ; you have done your best.” 

“Yes, sis, but that is scant comfort when one’s 
best is brought up with such a turn as this,” and 
Elijah hastened to consult with Ben. 

That young man was as vigorous as P. T. in his 
expressions of wrath. Indeed, his passion was so 
exuberant that it set Elijah to laughing, which was 
the best thing he could have done, with his nerves 
so tensely strung as they were. 

“Ben,” said he, “I don’t give up yet. The Citi- 


THE CITIZEN AND THE EMERGENCY. 1 87 

zen must get up an election number, in spite of 
everything.” 

“ But how ? ” was Ben’s doubtful reply. 

“ Print it ourselves.” 

“ Why, have we time ? Election ’s only two 
days off, you know.” 

“Yes, if all hands go at it, and if we sit up 
nights, I think it might be done.” 

“ Good!” and Ben clapped his hands in his zeal. 
“Good! I am your obedient apprentice, Fore¬ 
man Tone. Give me a stick, and set me before 
a case right away! It will be great fun to turn 
Crawford’s new job-press against him, and change 
his own type into ammunition against The Bee." 

“ Yes, it would only serve him right,” was Eli¬ 
jah’s answer. Then a sudden thought struck him. 
“ But, Ben, Crawford is likely to take possession 
any minute. He would be sure to clear out the 
office just in the midst of our work. No, we ’ve 
got to find some other way. Dear me! ” and 
there was a depressed silence. 

Again it was Elijah that spoke. 

“ Ben, you remember my little press ? ” 

“ That small affair ? Why, it ’s only a toy.” 

“ No, I did some good work on it when I was a 
boy. Don’t you remember my amateur paper, 
The Enterprise ? ” 

“ But have you type enough ? ” 

“Yes, enough for a page at a time, and possibly 


188 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


a little more, so that while one of us was working 
off a page, the rest could be setting up the next.” 

“ Elijah, we ’ll do it! All our own selves, we ’ll 
do it! And Hackerman and The Bee may do 
their worst, we ’ll get out our broadside. Won’t 
it be a lark, though ! ” 

And a lark it proved indeed. 

Our two young man betook themselves straight¬ 
way to Elijah’s attic to inspect the dusty little 
press. Screws were loose here and there, the ink- 
roller was shrivelled and useless, the platen was 
rusty ; but no essential parts were lacking, and 
Elijah was happy. 

“ Ben,” said he, “ while you and Florence are 
oiling this and putting it in order, I will run down 
to the office and send P. T. to Milton for a new 
ink-roller and some ink and paper. He can get 
them at the Orphans’ Home printing-office, if no¬ 
where else.” 

“Yes,” added Ben, “and have him borrow a 
line of big type for the title. You have none, of 
course.” 

“ Shall it be The Danford Citizen ? ” asked 
Florence. 

“No,” said Ben, “that paper has been betrayed. 
It is now a prisoner in the hands of the enemy.” 

“ The Danford Emergency , then,” suggested Eli¬ 
jah ; “ how will that do ? ” 

“ Good ! ” “ Capital! ” was the prompt verdict, 


THE CITIZEN AND THE EMERGENCY. 189 

and Elijah hastened off to speed P. T. on his 
way. 

He soon returned, his forehead in a frown. 

“ What ’s the matter, Elijah ? ” asked Florence, 
looking up from the case into which she was dis¬ 
tributing some pied type, while Ben, who had not 
let her touch the more unpleasant task, was clean¬ 
ing and oiling the rusty little press. “ What ’s 
the matter ? Has The Bee stung you again ? ” 

“Why, I have been thinking about all that 
copy I sent to Mr. Hackerman yesterday! I won¬ 
der what he has done with it. It would be just 
like him to put it right into Bill Downs’s hands.” 

“And give him all the points you meant to 
make against him ! ” groaned Ben. 

“ Well,” said Florence thoughtfully, “ if the ar¬ 
guments were good ones, and the points were true, 
he could not answer them, could he ? What harm 
would it do for him to have them ? ” 

“You know,” answered Elijah, “how he twists 
things and misstates them. He would misquote, 
and ridicule, and pull wool over the eyes of all the 
ignorant men in town.” 

An idea came to Ben. “ Did you send P. T. 
after the manuscript ? ” 

“ No, I thought it would be of no use, and I 
don’t want to have anything more to do with 
Hackerman.” 

“ I don’t blame you. Well, then, you can’t re- 


I90 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 

produce exactly what you wrote, so let ’s write 
something entirely different, and then, if the copy 
does get into Bill Downs’s hands, it will simply 
throw him off the scent.” 

But Elijah saw objections. “ I made the strong¬ 
est points I could.” 

“ But did you make them in the only way you 
could ? ” Ben asked. 

“ No, I suppose not. And, for one thing, I 
wrote the whole myself. Now we might get some¬ 
thing /rom your father for this emergency number. 
Or -— I tell you ! ” and Elijah in sudden enthusi¬ 
asm jumped up from the old trunk where he had 
been sitting dejectedly bent over. “ I ’ll tell 
you ! ” he shouted. Then he stopped to think. 
“ I ’ll tell you ! ” he cried again. 

Ben and Florence laughed merrily. “A com¬ 
forting promise, anyway,” said the latter. 

“ Well, this is it,” said Elijah, his face beaming. 
“ I propose that we turn this emergency number 
into a symposium. Get a few sentences each from 
all the respectable men in town. Print a declara¬ 
tion of political independence, and get as many 
as possible to sign it. I see my way to a grand 
effect! ” 

The two auditors clapped their hands. 

“ That is being an editor,” said Ben. “Who is 
it? — Dr. Trumbull, I think—that says it is a 
misfortune for an editor to want to write himself. 


THE CITIZEN AND THE EMERGENCY. 191 

Why, you will have a paper with half Danford re¬ 
sponsible for it.” 

“ But how will you gather these contributions 
in so short a time ? ” queried Florence. 

“ There is Ben’s Christian citizenship commit¬ 
tee.” 

“Yes, and spoiling for work,” put in Ben. “ I 
will go at once and bring them around here, and 
as many other Endeavorers as I can find.” 

“ Summon them as Christian Endeavor minute- 
men ! ” Elijah sung out, as Ben leaped down the 
attic stairs. 

Leaving Florence to finish the distributing of 
the type, Elijah hurried to his own room, where, 
with a brain that fairly whirled, he pushed his pen 
steadily until the first arrival of the committeemen. 
To make a beginning, he drew up the following 
brief statement for all to sign whom his messengers 
could persuade to do so. It read : — 

“We, the undersigned, citizens and voters of 
Danford, believe that the interests of our town, as 
of all towns, require that the best-qualified mem¬ 
bers of the community should be placed in charge 
of its government. We are grateful to Mr. Nathan 
Jarvis and the other public-spirited men who have 
permitted the use of their names upon the Citi¬ 
zens’ Ticket as candidates for the various city 
offices. We not only pledge them our hearty sup¬ 
port, but call upon all the voters of Danford to 


192 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


join with us as thus we cast our ballots for a pure, 
intelligent, and manly administration of our pub¬ 
lic affairs.” 

Elijah made several copies of this upon large 
sheets of paper ; then he turned to write his lead¬ 
ing editorial upon the betrayal of The Citizen , and 
the reasons for the publication of The Emergency . 
Mindful of the lesson he had learned on a former 
event, not even under his great provocation did he 
permit himself to write passionately. “ The Dan- 
ford Citizen ,” he declared, “is for the present in 
the hands of the foe. Around one foot is a chain 
of gold, around the other a chain of silver. Its 
mouth is gagged with greenbacks. Alas for The 
Danford Citizen ! But the citizens of Danford 
are not bound.” And with this Elijah launched 
into an earnest plea for righteous voting on elec 
tion day. 

Before he was through with this editorial, the 
first of the Christian citizenship committee arrived. 
Elijah gave his manuscript to Florence, \vho pro¬ 
ceeded to put it into type as fast as her pretty 
white fingers could travel, while Elijah gave in¬ 
structions to his committeeman. 

It chanced to be Teddy Mason. “ Good ! ” 
cried Elijah, “ I knew you would be on hand in 
an emergency,” and Teddy beamed his delight. 

Hastily penning a note to Mr. Jarvis, Elijah ex¬ 
plained to him the situation, and besought him for 


THE CITIZEN AND THE EMERGENCY. 193 

a short article for the sheet he was preparing in 
such haste — “ not more than three hundred words, 
please,” ran Elijah’s note, “because we have scant 
time and scanter type. And let it be a regular 
slogan.” So Teddy hurried off, proud of his com¬ 
mission. 

By this time two more had come, and for an 
hour Elijah was busy merely sending out these 
and the other Endeavorers whom Ben had pressed 
into service. They were all young people whose 
zeal for reform had been fired by the studies in 
citizenship that had been so wisely conducted, and 
they were glad to be of some practical service. 
Elijah provided each of them with a copy of his 
carefully written statement, that they might get 
as many signatures as possible. “ Give everybody 
a chance to sign,” said he, “ even those you are 
quite sure are on the other side. You might be 
mistaken, and anyway it may set them to think¬ 
ing.” 

To about a dozen men he sent urgent requests 
for pithy little articles suitable to the present 
crisis. These articles were sought from all the 
ministers in the town, not forgetting the Catholic 
priest, from Dr. Boynton and the leading college 
professors, and from the most influential mer¬ 
chants. Each messenger was instructed to find 
out just how soon these little articles — only fifty 
or one hundred words were asked for — would be 


194 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


ready, and to call for them then and bring them to 
the office of The Emergency. 

Finally, a set of streets was marked out for 
each, so that the canvassing for names might go 
on with system, and the Christian citizenship skir¬ 
mishers sped away on their manly — and womanly 
— errands. 

By the time Ben had returned, flushed with his 
rapid walking and with the proud consciousness of 
having done well for his country, Florence had 
finished putting Elijah’s leader into type. It was 
so long that, with the title, for which they must 
wait P. T.’s return, it would quite fill the small 
“ chase ” of the little press, and so they could put 
no more on the first page. P. T. would be back on 
the one o’clock train. 

“ In the mean time,” Florence said, u we must 
be eating, for Millie’s dinner is spoiling for us, I 
am afraid, and mother has been good enough not 
to call me from my fascinating task. You will 
stay to dinner, won’t you ? ” looking at Ben. 

And of course Ben would. 

Mr. Tone, when they were well through with 
the meal, suddenly put his hand in his pocket and 
brought out a letter. “ This rather portentous 
affair came for you this morning, Elijah,” said he, 
“and I almost forgot to give it to you. From a 
Milton firm of lawyers, I observe,” looking at the 
upper corner, as he handed it across the table. 


THE CITIZEN AND THE EMERGENCY. 195 

Elijah opened it, glanced over it, grew red, then 
white, and threw it down on the table. It was a 
formal communication from “ Chase and Small, 
attorneys-at-law,” declaring that their client, Saun¬ 
ders Hackerman, stood ready to prosecute a claim 
for $600 on account of moneys for subscriptions 
and job-work received by him, Elijah Tone, over 
and above the sums of which he had rendered due 
account, the said sum of $600 being unlawfully 
retained by him. Three days would be given for 
payment, in default of which suit would at once be 
brought. And they “ begged to remain his very 
obedient servants to command, Chase and Small, 
per F. S.” 


196 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE DAY OF FREEMEN-AND OF SLAVES. 

There was an astonished silence at that dinner- 
table. 

“Why, Elijah, what does it mean?” cried Mrs. 
Tone. 

Elijah found his voice. “ I am sure I don’t 
know, mother, except that it is more of Saunders 
Hackerman’s knavery.” 

“ Have you any money of his at all ? ” asked 
Florence, her face white with anxiety. 

“Yes, a little that came in yesterday afternoon, 
but less than five dollars. Of the rest I have given 
him every cent, deducting my ten per cent, of 
course, and P. T.’s board, together with the neces¬ 
sary running expenses of the office. I have kept 
full accounts of everything, and given him copies 
of these.” 

“ How did you give him the money, Elijah ? ” 
asked Mr. Tone. 

“ Nearly all of it I handed over to him when he 
came up on his weekly visits. Most of it was in 
money. Why, altogether it was n’t much more 
than six hundred dollars ! ” 


DAY OF FREEMEN—AND OF SLA YES. 197 

“ But you took receipts, of course ? ” Ben inquired. 

“No, I did n’t,” Elijah answered, his face dark 
with gloom. “ I trusted the man. I did n’t once 
think of asking him for a receipt.” 

“O Elijah, Elijah,” moaned Florence, “if that 
is n’t just like you ! ” 

The faces around that table were downcast in¬ 
deed. 

“ Six hundred dollars ! ” and Mr. Tone’s voice 
was unsteady; “ why, it would pinch us for years 
to pay that, and all for nothing but your quixotism, 
Elijah.” 

“ Oh, I knew something awful would come of it, 
I knew it, I knew it! ” and Mrs. Tone put her 
handkerchief to her eyes. 

“ Elijah sha’ n’t pay a cent of it,” blurted out 
Ben. “ I have money enough of my own. I shall 
pay it myself.” 

“ As if I would ever let you, old fellow,” said 
Elijah, giving Ben a grateful smile. “But don’t 
let’s worry about it, mother, father. I don’t be¬ 
lieve it is anything but a bold piece of impudent 
blackmail. My word ought to be as good as Saun¬ 
ders Hackerman’s, and I have lots of influential 
friends. I am just going ahead with my present 
duty, and let this matter worry me as little as pos¬ 
sible. I don’t believe Hackerman will ever dare 
to bring suit, and if he does, then we will see what 
we can do about it.” 


198 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 

This brave way of looking at it cheered them all, 
though throughout the rest of the meal conversa¬ 
tion came constantly back to the great topic, how 
to outwit Saunders Hackerman and prove him the 
rascal he undoubtedly was. 

After dinner the little articles began to arrive. 
First came Teddy with Mr. Jarvis’s. The more 
ready writers to whom Elijah had applied sent in 
their paragraphs next, — the preachers and the pro¬ 
fessors. All of these were heard from promptly. 
The business men required more persuasion and 
more time. 

Here was abundant material for The Emergency. 
P. T. returned early in the afternoon with the new 
ink-roller, with fresh ink, the type for the heading, 
and a great bundle of paper cut to the proper size. 
The little foreman had to borrow a wheelbarrow 
to get them all up from the station. 

The first page had been carefully “ proved ” and 
all mistakes corrected. It needed only the title, 
“ The Danford Emergency ,” to be placed on the 
press and worked off. While Elijah was preparing 
the copy that had come in, and getting up a series 
of pointed paragraphs to sandwich in among the 
articles and brighten the paper, and while P. T. 
was swiftly putting these articles and paragraphs 
into type, Ben and Florence presided together over 
the printing-press, “for we two,” said Ben slyly, 
“should be learning to work together,” whereat 


DAY OF FREEMEN—AND OF SLA YES. 199 

Florence blushed furiously, Elijah laughed happily, 
and P. T. opened his eyes wide. 

Thus merrily during that autumn afternoon pro¬ 
gressed the printing of The Emergency. So zeal¬ 
ously did the four labor that, as the autumn 
twilight began to gather, Florence triumphantly 
waved over her head the last impression of the 
second page. They had decided to print one thou¬ 
sand copies, and to have four pages. Elijah had 
instructed P. T. to have the paper cut to fit that 
plan. The type for the third page was ready. 
That page was made up of Elijah’s final thrusts, 
aided by Ben’s keen wit, and also of a few brief 
and plain, but no less pointed and telling, contri¬ 
butions from prominent business men. The fourth 
page was reserved for the grand appeal and for 
the signatures to it which the eager Christian En¬ 
deavor skirmishers were collecting. 

These skirmishers began to come in as it grew 
dark. Each was all aglow with excitement. Each 
had a well-filled paper to show, and a piquant story 
to tell. 

“Old Pete Lemons,” said one, “insisted on hunt¬ 
ing up a bottle of red ink to sign his name with. 
He said it stood for his own heart’s blood.” 

“Mr. McPherson,” said another, “wouldn’t sign 
it unless we let him put a note after his name.” 
This was the note : “ I cannot subscribe to the 
exact wording of the above, which is loose and ill- 


200 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


considered, but to the intent and purpose thereof 
I put my hand.” 

“ Is n’t that just like the old Scotchman ?” asked 
Florence. 

Of course all had not been smooth sailing. 
Some had driven away the Endeavorers with 
curses. Some had called them impudent and up¬ 
start. Some had dallied with them and pretended 
to wish time to consider. On the whole, however, 
they had had remarkable success; and their can¬ 
vass had been so vigorous and thorough, aided by 
Elijah’s systematic plans, that the list of signers of 
the statement and appeal included quite one-third 
of the voters of the town and well-nigh all of the 
leading citizens. Elijah scanned it with a bright¬ 
ening eye. “ My, but that will look grand in 
type ! ” said he. 

Into type the four proceeded to put it im¬ 
mediately after supper — that is, P. T. and Elijah 
worked at the typesetting, while Ben and Florence 
labored at the press on page three. Their lamps 
cast mysterious shadows through the attic, and 
now and then a mouse could be heard in the wall. 
The novelty of the situation, and — to two of them, 
at least — the novelty of the task, kept them wide 
awake, though it drew near midnight before the 
thousandth copy of page three was triumphantly 
whirled from the little press and its type released 
for the completion of page four. Then came 


DAY OF FREEMEN—AND OF SLA YES. 201 


cheery good-nights; and the proprietors, editors, 
compositors, proof-readers, and pressmen of The 
Emergency separated for the brief rest they had so 
well earned. 

At it again after breakfast the next morning, 
part of them distributing the type while the rest 
used the composing-stick, and they found it difficult 
to keep out of one another’s way. Rapidly grew 
the long list of names, each of which meant at least 
one vote for the good cause. At length the page 
was finished, locked up in the chase, “ proved ” and 
corrected, placed finally in the press and “made 
ready,” and the first copy of the completed Emer¬ 
gency lay spread out before eight admiring eyes. 

Yes, before more than eight, for several members 
of the Christian citizenship committee had found 
their way to the attic, and Mr. Tone, also, was look¬ 
ing on with great interest and with secret delight 
in his boy’s pluck, and Mr. Jarvis, too, had dropped 
in to give a word of cheer and hearty approval. 

The first hundred copies went to the post-office 
addressed to farmers and other out-of-town folks 
difficult of access in any other way, and then, as fast 
as the supplies could be printed, the Endeavorers 
were sent out with them over the town, so that, by 
the evening before the eventful election day, every 
home and every store in the village was in posses¬ 
sion of The Emergency. 

And what a sensation it created! Every argu- 


202 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


ment was discussed, every name was debated, 
every sly shot enjoyed. The grit of the perform¬ 
ance under so great difficulties was everywhere 
acknowledged. The election number of The Bee , 
which reached its subscribers the same afternoon, 
though Bill Downs had put into it all his coarse 
sarcasm, and though, as Elijah quickly perceived, 
the treacherous Hacker man had given him the ad¬ 
vantage of seeing the manuscript intended for that 
number of The Citizen , — yet it seemed very tame 
in comparison. Probably very few votes, if any, 
were changed by The Emergency ; but many a man 
whose sympathies were sluggishly with Mr. Jarvis 
was moved thereby to express them to his neigh¬ 
bors and at the polls, and not a few men who had 
decided to vote for the old regime , after scanning 
the list of influential names ranged in opposition 
made up their minds that it would be judicious for 
them to remain away from the polls on the morrow. 

That morrow dawned clear and bright, a model 
election day. It would be hard to describe Elijah’s 
feelings as he awoke and remembered that on that 
day he was to cast his first vote. It was no trifling 
matter with him, this entrance into the formal 
duties and responsibilities of citizenship — duties 
and responsibilities which in noble reality he had 
been bearing all summer and fall. It was a sacred 
day, and he entered upon it with a swelling heart. 

Elijah was at the polls before six o’clock. Just 


DAY OF FREEMEN - AND OF SLAVES. 207 , 

as the hour of fate arrived, Mayor Downs mounted 
the steps of the little building that served as jail 
and court-house and city hall combined, and made 
bold proclamation, “ Oyez, oyez, oyez, the polls are 
now open.” Thus the wheels of fate were set 
moving. 

A window opening upon the street was partly 
raised. Inside was a table upon which the ballot- 
box was placed. At the table sat the three judges 
of election. Standing in the street outside, the 
voter handed his ballot to one of these august 
officials, at the same time announcing his name. 
The judge that received the ballot repeated the 
name ; another judge, who held the registration- 
book, looked for the name in the alphabetical list. 
On finding it, he called it out in his turn, at the 
same time checking it off. Then the ballot was 
deposited in the ballot-box. 

Within the court-room — for it was this notable 
chamber that had become a polling-booth — stood 
the mayor with a knot of his cronies. Outside, 
close about the window, were two groups, one con¬ 
taining the friends of Mr. Jarvis and reform, the 
other the supporters of Bill Downs. In the first 
group were Elijah, Ben, Mr. Hoi worthy, and, of 
course, Teddy Mason, the latter with his chosen 
ticket boldly pinned upon his coat, that all might 
see it. In the second group were Malony and Cal 
Peters, and others of their feather. In former 


204 ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 

elections these had formed the only body of work¬ 
ers at the polls. To-day things were to be dif¬ 
ferent. 

Elijah was one of the first to vote. “ Elijah 
Tone,” he cried, as he passed in the little piece of 
paper. The judge was a bottle-nosed farmer, one 
of Malony’s best customers. His name was Silas 
Pardee. 

“Eh? What name?” looking at Elijah as if. 
he had never seen him before. 

“ Elijah Tone,” and our hero flushed. 

“ You of age! ” this with a sneer. 

Malony and his comrades burst into a loud 
guffaw and slapped their sides in glee. 

By this time the judge with the registration- 
book, Martin Rowe, a well-meaning but a slow and 
stupid man, had found Elijah’s name and called it 
off. 

“ Well, who’d ha’ thought it! ” exclaimed Silas 
Pardee, as he dropped Elijah’s ballot into the box. 

The young citizen turned away from the window 
hot with anger, all the more angry because he was 
conscious how foolish it was to be angry at such 
buffoonery. “They will see I am a man before 
the day is out,” said he to himself. And, indeed, 
they did. 


AT HIS POST. 


205 


CHAPTER XXII. 

AT HIS POST. 

Gradually the crowd about the polling-place 
grew greater. Many that had to begin work at 
seven came hurrying up, laborers with tin dinner- 
pails, section-hands on the railroad, clerks, quarry- 
men, sawmill-men, and the like. As each man 
approached, from whatever direction, he was met 
by at least two men, one of them armed with the 
Citizens’ ticket and the other with the ticket of 
the “ regulars.” 

It is needless to say that by this time all of 
Ben’s Christian citizenship committee were pres¬ 
ent. Half a dozen business men had also decided 
that in no way could they put in a better day’s 
work for their business than by laboring at the 
polls for a clean and progressive town govern¬ 
ment. Whenever a voter was descried in the 
distance, therefore, Elijah, if he did not know al¬ 
ready, could learn at once from some of the thor¬ 
ough canvassers on Ben’s committee, or from some 
of these business men, just where the approaching 
voter stood, and what chance there was of convert¬ 
ing him if he was on the wrong side. 


20 6 


ELIJAH TO AH, CITIZEN. 


Ben had a list compiled with much painstaking, 
and containing the names of all that were likely 
to vote for reform. This list numbered a large 
majority of the' townspeople ; but, as Ben said, 
“ you can’t always tell from the way a man talks 
how he ’s going to vote. There ’s many a slip 
’twixt the lip and the ballot-box.” As each man 
voted, Ben marked him upon this list, indicating 
how he voted, if he knew ; and he generally did 
know, for party spirit was running high, and most 
of the men were bold enough in proclaiming their 
affiliations. 

Just after their breakfast, and before their 
chapel exercises, the college folks marched down. 
This was a bit of the spectacular that Elijah had 
arranged, with the consent of President Boynton. 

“ Whar ’s dat musickin’ ? ” asked Uncle Dick 
Miner, whose quick African ear caught the first 
strains of a brass band. 

“ A procession ! A procession ! sure ’s fate ! ” 
and a dozen small boys made a frantic plunge in 
the direction of the magic sounds. 

They made a brave sight turning the corner in 
the distance, and filing into the main street of the 
village. At the head proudly paced the student 
band of the college, back of which two young 
men bore the American flag and the college colors. 
Then came a dignified body — no less than the en¬ 
tire faculty, with the single exception of Professor 


AT HIS POST 


20 7 


Graham. Dr. Boynton and Professor Collins were 
at the head, and the rest followed two by two. 

Behind them came the students, in a lengthen¬ 
ing row. They were ordered according to their 
classes, the staid seniors leading and the merry 
freshmen bringing up the rear, with here and there 
a tin horn to mark the time and add to the en¬ 
thusiasm. Among these students Elijah was de¬ 
lighted to see nearly every one of the lads caught 
in Malony’s saloon that fateful night, and he rec¬ 
ognized their presence as the result of President 
Boynton’s manly and kindly counsel. “ Sambo,” 
the college janitor, closed the procession, his white 
teeth gleaming in the midst of his shining black 
face. 

Malony strode fiercely up to Elijah. 

“Y’ ain’t a-goin’ to vote all of that gang in, not 
’f I know it,” he blustered. “ Why, most of them 
are minors.” 

Elijah paid no attention to the angry Irish¬ 
man. 

“ Hurrah ! ” he cried, swinging his cap at the 
approaching procession. “ Colestone College and 
good government ! Hurrah ! ” 

The procession made a grand sensation as it 
marched down Main Street. Houses and stores 
were emptied to see it pass. “ What is it ? ” 
“ What does it mean ? ” “ What is it for ? ” Such 

questions were heard on all sides. And always 


208 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


there was some one to answer, “ It ’s the college 
going down to vote the Citizens’ ticket.” 

Having reached the town hall, the procession 
came to a halt, with a good cheer from the students 
and a final blare from the brass band. At once 
the professors and the students that were of age 
broke ranks and went toward the voting-place, 
while the younger ones looked on in admiring and 
envious groups. 

“ Never ’n all creation was sech a thing hap¬ 
pened before,” truthfully remarked a colored man ; 
for, indeed, up to that eventful campaign the dis¬ 
reputable politics of Danford had not been inter¬ 
fered with by many votes from the college. This 
fact will account for the scene that followed; for 
no sooner had all the faculty deposited their ballots 
than, with the very first ballot offered by a student, 
Bill Malony stepped smartly forward and said : 
“ Hould on there. Mishter jedges, I challenge 
that vote, so I do.” 

“ Why ? ” asked the student indignantly. “ I am 
of age and I have voted here before.” It chanced 
that he was one of the few that could say this. 

“ That may all be, but ye don’t live here at all 
at all,” quickly replied Bill Malony. 

“ Is this your residence, young man ? ” asked 
Silas Pardee through the window. 

“Why — why—I get my mail here —,” stam¬ 
mered the student. 



“ Mishter jedges, I challenge that vote.’ 

















A T HIS POST 209 

“ But is this your home ? Do you live here ? ” 
sharply proceeded the judge. 

“ I have no home,” the student declared. “ When 
I get through college, I shall find work somewhere. 
I don’t intend to live at home any more.” 

“To live at home ! Why, is n’t that the same 
thing as saying that Danford is not your home ? 
You can’t vote, young man. Stand out o’ the 
way.” 

Much discomfited, the student turned aside to 
consult with Elijah and President Boynton, and in 
the mean time another student made an attempt 
to vote, which was checkmated in the same way. 
He was followed by a third, and he by still an¬ 
other. 

The point had never been raised before. So 
few students had wished to vote that no one had 
cared to raise it. “ Mr. Tone,” the president 
acknowledged, “ I am afraid they have us. They 
have probably looked up the law on the matter, if 
there is a law. I suppose these young men have 
undoubted right to vote at their own homes, and 
if they could vote here also, it would give them a 
double franchise.” 

“But we need them,” Elijah protested, with 
a rigid face; “ we need them to make a sure 
majority.” 

“ I fear we do,” Dr. Boynton assented, “ but the 
reform party must not oppose the law. I wish we 


210 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


had thought of the matter and looked it up. But 
as it is, I do not see but this is the best we can 
do.” With that, the president stepped to the half¬ 
open window and thus addressed the judges : — 

“ Gentlemen, in behalf of these students I make 
formal protest against your decision. I shall get 
the proper authorities to pass upon the point you 
raise. In the mean time, I call upon you to accept 
these votes, marking them with the names of the 
young men that present them ; and then, if they 
affect the result, you can throw them out, pending 
decision. That is fair, is it not ? ” 

To this proposition the judges could not but 
agree, and so all the students except those that 
had homes in Danford cast ballots plainly marked 
with their own names. 

As may be imagined, the band did not strike up 
to conduct the college folks back, nor was the pro¬ 
cession re-formed, but students and professors re¬ 
turned somewhat demoralized, in straggling groups. 
“ It is a lesson in practical politics, Elijah,” said 
President Boynton. “To accomplish political re¬ 
sults, I see, we must not take anything for granted.” 

Our hero’s heart, already heavy at this great and 
unexpected loss to the majority on which he had 
been confidently reckoning, fell still further as the 
morning wore on. A “Why, how little a man counts 
here! ” he exclaimed, as he watched the crowds of 
dirty, ignorant, besotted creatures, each holding in 


A T HIS POST. 


211 


his grimy hand a ballot that counted as much to¬ 
ward the result as President Boynton’s or Mr. Hol- 
worthy’s. There were Africans,—some of them, 
of course, bright and intelligent, but most of them 
still chained with the shackles of a slavery from 
which it will need another and a mightier crusade 
to ransom them. There were men from the Old 
World, turning into license their new-found free¬ 
dom, and having no loftier conception of the high 
duty of that day than that there was a fight on’ 
hand, free for all. Brains befuddled by drink, eyes 
blinded by passion and prejudice, souls puffed up 
with the emptiness of ignorance — ah, what a dis¬ 
heartening procession is that to be seen at any 
ballot-box! One must have courage of steel, and 
the largest faith in our common humanity, to look 
on such a scene without losing hope."( 

To help in the work among the colored people 
Elijah had their preachers — the Baptist and the 
Methodist Zion. These kept a sharp eye on their 
flocks. With great directness they labored. 
“ Here, sir. I b’lieve yo’ votin’ wrong, sir,” would 
be the challenge, followed by a discussion very 
much to the point, in which the pastor was gen¬ 
erally victorious. 

These ministerial brethren were valiantly as¬ 
sisted by Aunt Jennie Wilson, a stout, shining-faced 
colored woman, a prime favorite with the male por¬ 
tion of the African community. This personage 


212 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


believed in no half-way measures. Arm in arm 
she marched up with the men of her acquaintance, 
and looked accurately to the depositing of the bal¬ 
lot she had given him. “ It ’s to keep yo’ son 
from de pen’tentiary ! ” she argues with one. “ It ’s 
to put decent clo’es on de back of yo’ wife! ” she 
says solemnly to another. “ His first vote, and a 
righteous one! ” is her proud exclamation as her 
own son steps away from the window. “ Next 
Sunday ’s communion, Mr. Bill Barnes. You vote 
dat ticket you ’s got in yo’ hand, and I ’ll have 
you ’spelled de church. I will, shore’s my name’s 
Jane Wilson ! ” 

On one occasion Aunt Jennie’s zeal went too far. 
She stood in front of Jake Collins, the blacksmith, 
as he stepped up to the window, and opposed him 
with form as Herculean as his own. “ You Jake! 
let me see dat ticket! I b’lieve dat ’s an evil 
ticket! You let me see it! ” She warded off Jake 
as he tried laughingly to hand in the ticket over 
her head, and after a brief mock struggle, suddenly, 
to every one’s surprise, Jake retreated. 

“ Come, that won’t do,” said Elijah. “ They will 
charge us with intimidation. Call Jake back, even 
if he does vote wrong.” 

Jake, however, would not come back, but went 
guffawing down the street, showing his ticket to 
the crowd. It was the Citizens’ ticket! 

Just before noon there came swaggering up to 


A T HIS POST 


213 


the polls a number of rough specimens of manhood, 
led by Malony. Some of them were evidently fresh 
— or rather, stale — from his saloon. Several of 
them were colored men. 

Aunt Jennie scanned the latter with a sharp eye. 
“Joe Bond. Ain’t no use tryin’ to do nothing 
with him,” she soliloquized. “ Obstinanter ’n a 
mule, specially when he’s been drinkin’. Ner that 
Zach Simmons. He’s half-witted, anyway. Might 
a million times better let me vote ’n let him. But 
who ’s dat little nigger in de middle ? Never sot 
eyes on him afore.” 

“ Dat little nigger ” gave his name in a voice too 
low for Aunt Jennie to hear, whereupon she pressed 
boldly in among the group. 

“ W’at ’s dat man’s name ? ” she asked of the 
judge. 

“ Get out of that! ” snapped out Silas Pardee. 
“ Get away from the window. You’ve no business 
here.” 

“ Brudder Johnson,” cried Aunt Jennie, “come 
heah. You got some business heah, you man. Ax 
dat man his name.” 

At this Mr. Johnson, the pastor of the African 
Methodist Zion church, bustled up. He was a new¬ 
comer from Canada and could not vote, but he was 
“ takin’ holt right smart,” Aunt Jennie said. 

“Eh, Mrs. Wilson, trouble here?” he asked; 
and then, after she had repeated her demand, he 


214 


ELIJAH TONE, CITIZEN. 


turned to the judge : “ I demand to know the name 
of that man who just voted, sir,” he said. 

“ None of yer business,” snarled Bill Malony, 
elbowing his way up to the colored preacher; but 
before he could reach the window the judge snapped 
out: “ That was William Scott, and he ’s regularly 
registered. Now you shut up.” 

“ Will’m Scott! ” cried Aunt Jennie ; “ why, dat 
ain’t no more Will’m Scott ner I am. Will’m Scott 
moved to Whitinsville more ’n a month ago.” 

Here Elijah, who had been listening with great 
interest, broke in. He saw that the judge still 
held in his hand the disputed ballot. “ Mr. Par¬ 
dee,” he said firmly, “ I challenge that man’s vote. 
Don’t you deposit it. Marshal Peters, I call on 
you to arrest him for fraudulent voting.” 

Malony turned white with rage. A torrent of 
oaths burst from him. “You Elijah Tone, you,” 
he screamed ; “ I owe ye one already. I ’ll teach 
ye a lesson.” 

Quick as thought the fiery Irishman pulled out 
a revolver. He flashed it upon Elijah. There 
was a sharp report, and Elijah Tone fell to the 
ground. 


THE END—ONLY THE BEGINNING. 21 5 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE END-WHICH IS ONLY THE BEGINNING. 

“ Seize him ! ” “ Stop him ! ” “ Don’t let him 

go ! ” shouted a dozen voices. 

Bill Malony, cursing deeply, backed off, threat¬ 
ening with his still smoking revolver the men that 
bore down upon him. 

Marshal Peters turned white. What was the 
coward to do in this emergency ? He did the 
safest thing; he did nothing. 

Suddenly a shout went up. Quick as a flash 
Aunt Jennie had darted around behind the raging 
saloon-keeper and seized him in her great arms. 

The little colored man who had been trying to 
vote slunk away. Malony’s “ toughs ” shrank 
back to a proper distance. The Irishman strug¬ 
gled, with oath upon oath ; but he was a close 
prisoner. 

“You murderer! You murderer!” screamed 
Aunt Jennie. “Drop dat revolver, you! Hurry 
up, you men. I can’t hold him much longer. .You 
murderer, you! ” 

Marshal Peters saw his chance. “ Bill Malony,” 


216 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


said he, in a shaky voice, “ in the name of the city 
of Danford, I arrest you. You are my prisoner, 
sir. Hold on to him, Aunt Jennie.” 

In the mean time an anxious group had gath¬ 
ered around the prostrate Elijah. He had fainted. 
Some ran for water. Others tore off his coat and 
his shirt. Ben sent half a dozen running for a doc¬ 
tor. The blood was slowly oozing from a wound 
in his side. They carried him out of the sun into 
the building. 

Aunt Jennie had released her hold. A dozen 
men were ready to snatch the pistol from the 
saloon-keeper and to push him, in spite of his 
frantic resistance, through the barred door of the 
jail, that opened just around the corner from the 
court-room. 

“ Oh, this is awful! this is awful! ” cried Ben ; 
and more than one man was at his prayers as they 
worked over the still form. 

Before the doctor came, Elijah had recovered 
from his swoon, had tried to rise, and had swooned 
again. The doctor looked serious as he made a 
quick examination. “ A fraction of an inch to the 
left,” said he, “ and it would have been all over 
with him.” 

“ Will he live ? ” “ Will he live ? ” was the ques¬ 
tion from all sides. But the doctor would not 
answer. 

They carried Elijah into an inner room. He 


THE END — ONL Y THE BEGINNING . 217 


could not be taken home, the doctor said. They 
brought in a mattress, sheets, and pillow from a 
neighboring house, and speedily prepared a bed. 
The doctor succeeded in reviving him only after 
several efforts. To the great relief of all it was 
found that the ball was not embedded in Elijah’s 
side, but had passed out. Still, it was a severe and 
dangerous wound that had to be dressed. 

Elijah’s mind turned at once to the election. 
“ Don’t leave the polls,” he begged, turning his 
white face toward Ben and Mr. Holworthy and the 
other friends who were waiting anxiously for the 
doctor’s verdict. “ Don’t leave the polls. The elec¬ 
tion will be so close. You are needed there, I’m 
sure. Please go back. Just send for my folks, and 
stick to the polls.” 

“Word has gone to your folks already,” said 
Ben, “and I could n’t go myself till I heard from 
the doctor. May I reassure them, doctor ? ” he 
asked anxiously. 

“Yes,” was all the doctor would answer, and 
Ben hurried off to meet Florence and her father 
and mother, as with pallid faces they were running 
from their house, the news having just reached 
them. 

“He will live!” cried Ben, “I’m sure he will 
live, God won’t let him die ” ; and as they hurried 
to the city hall he told them the tragic story. 

In the mean time Elijah had insisted that the 


218 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


workers return to their posts at the polls, and he 
was evidently so worried and excited that the doc¬ 
tor added his orders to the young man’s entreaties, 
so that Elijah was almost alone when the four 
entered. 

“O my dear, dear boy!” cried Mrs. Tone hys¬ 
terically. “ I always said something awful would 
cbme of this business, and now it has ! ” But Mr. 
Tone took his son’s hand in a loving grasp without 
saying a word, and Florence sank by Elijah’s side, 
whispering, “ God bless you, my brave brother.” 

Outside the building where Elijah lay suffering, 
a hushed crowd had quickly gathered. 

The news had spread rapidly, and in forms most 
various. Elijah had been killed. He had merely 
received a flesh-wound. He had been carried 
home. He could not be lifted from the ground 
where he had fallen. It was Malony that had 
shot him. It was Bill Downs. It was one of the 
negroes. 

Everybody in the little town that could do so 
hastened to the voting-place. Men and women 
stood in groups talking eagerly and softly. The 
first to come from the city hall were questioned 
from all sides. A lane was made silently for Ben 
with Elijah’s father, mother, and sister. No one, 
not even the judges, not even Mayor Downs, had a 
thought of the business of voting. The entire town 
held its breath in fear of the news that might come. 


THE END—ONLY THE BEGINNING. 219 

So that when at length Mr. Holworthy appeared 
in the door of the court-room, he found before him 
a large audience, filling the little yard in front 
and extending from sidewalk to sidewalk across the 
street. Raising his hand to command attention, 
and reminding them that the news he had to tell 
must be received in quietness, he announced the 
probability of Elijah’s recovery. 

At once a great sigh of relief came from the 
crowd, and then every man’s hat came off and was 
waved noiselessly in the air, together with the 
handkerchiefs of the women. “ Thank God ! ” 
“ Bress de Lord! ” were heard on all sides, and 
from white and black. Then Mr. Holworthy went 
on to say : — 

“ Elijah Tone will not die, but he is just as 
much a hero as if he had died. He was shot while 
standing at the post of duty, while manfully doing 
the work of a Christian citizen. There can be 
no better way to show our honor for him than by 
attending to that same duty ourselves. He is in 
great pain, and the doctor has given him an opiate, 
but his anxiety for this election prevents his sleep. 
He has worked so long and so earnestly for the 
betterment of this town, and he fears from the way 
things have been going here to-day that all his 
efforts were in vain. 

“ Men, shall this be ? Shall not the ballots that 
remain to be cast to-day redeem the town? You 


220 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


know well enough the curse of incompetent and 
ignorant government. You know well enough the 
fearful curse of rum. Here from this spot, sacred 
in the eyes of all patriots; from this spot, where 
a citizen seals his honor or his infamy; by the side 
of the ballot-box, I beseech all of you that have 
not yet voted to vote at once for honesty and intel¬ 
ligence, for manliness and purity. No better mes¬ 
sage than that this is happening could be sent to 
the sufferer within. Shall we not send it, men ? ” 

Then, in the spirit of the old saying that “ the 
blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church,” it 
was made manifest what can be accomplished by 
sacrifice in these modern days. Not all of Elijah’s 
words and deeds together wrought so powerfully 
as his sufferings. 

The forces of good citizenship toiled with ten¬ 
fold energy. They sent out carriages for the old 
and infirm. They pleaded with every man that 
approached the polls. What arguments were 
ready to their tongues ! “ The spirit of the saloon 
has shown itself to-day.” “ Do you stand for such 
deeds as this shooting ? ” “ Are you on Malony’s 

side ? ” “ Does that vote mean more whiskey and 

more bloodshed ? ” 

But really, not much urging was needed. A 
change in public sentiment that was instant and 
marvellous had been wrought by that pistol- 
shot. 


THE END—ONLY THE BEGINNING. 221 


“ I have thrown away that dirty ticket. Gimme 
a clean one,” said a brawny voter. 

“ Nivver another wet vote for Dennis,” declared 
another. 

“ Mr. Holworthy, won’t yo’ please go in, sar, an’ 
tell Mars ’Lijah as how as Tom Grimes voted dry ? 
That ’ll s’prise him, ’cause I swore at him on’y 
day befo’ yestiddy w’en he asked me to vote de 
Cit’zen ticket.”. 

Such were the eager testimonies to the convin¬ 
cing force of a single brave deed. And many a 
man insisted on sending word to the quiet sick¬ 
room that he had changed his mind and was vot¬ 
ing “right,” messages that did more than the 
opiate to ease Elijah’s pain. 

Thus all that afternoon a noble work of citi¬ 
zenship went on outside the room where lay the 
young reformer. Men that seemed too brutal to 
be moved by any heroism were touched to better 
feelings and to righteous action. It might not 
last; indeed, nothing but a long course of persist¬ 
ent, popular education in better citizenship would 
make it last; but that afternoon, at least, the little 
community, for years given over to the most out¬ 
rageous misrule, was of one heart and mind in 
favor of the best. Even Cal Peters looked seri¬ 
ous. Even Mayor Downs lost the sneer from his 
face, and seemed to delight in corners. And some 
of the reddest-nosed men in town cast their vote 


222 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


for health and wealth, for purity and godliness, 
and then went home to boast of it to their wives, 
who, poor things ! knew all too well how brief 
their new virtue would prove. 

Promptly at six o’clock the mayor stood in the 
door and proclaimed, in a voice that had quite lost 
its morning bombast, “ Hear ye, hear ye, the polls 
are now closed.” 

Scores of eager men and women waited in the 
street for the counting of the ballots and the an¬ 
nouncement of the result. It was supper-time, 
but what matter ? Danford’s blood was up. This 
affair must be seen clear through. 

By seven o’clock the counting was completed, 
and swiftly the news spread from the little knot 
around the door. It was received quietly, so as 
not to awaken the sleeper within; quietly, but 
with great exultation, for it ran : “ Good ! 120 
majority for Jarvis ! ” “ Hurrah ! Victory for the 

Citizens’ ticket! ” “120 majority! O my! ” “ And 
without counting the students, too!” “A good 
day’s work ! ” “ The Lord was in it all ! ” Such 

were the hearty comments as the crowd dispersed. 

And the great battle had been won. 


Now here am I at the end of my story, and 
with so much more that I want to tell! About 
Mr. Jarvis, and what capital work he did as mayor 


THE END—ONLY THE BEGINNING. 223 

of Danford ; how the reforms he introduced made 
his town a model, to which came the thinking men 
of scores of cities to learn useful lessons in muni¬ 
cipal government. About the Christian citizenship 
committee, and how it prosecuted its studies, and 
trained up by its discussions and investigations a 
body of intelligent, conscientious citizens that en¬ 
sured the perpetuity of reform. About Florence 
and her children and her happy home. About 
Ben, her lucky husband, and his struggles and 
triumphs as a very practical politician. About P. 
T.’s life of usefulness, surrounded by loving and 
tender friends. About Teddy Mason, and how he 
conquered that receding chin of his. About the 
Great Starter and the collapse of his Village Press 
Syndicate, and his forced withdrawal of the claim 
against Elijah. About Sandy McPherson, and 
what a valiant aid to Mayor Jarvis the old Scotch¬ 
man proved. About Elijah’s father and mother, 
and how they rejoiced in their son’s noble career. 
About Elijah himself, and how his sincerity and 
brave patriotism, his skilful pen and warm heart, 
are winning him an influence that reaches far be¬ 
yond the bounds of his own State. About — but 
there ! I shall never get through at this rate. One 
more scene, and I am done. 

It is the office of Mr. Crawford, proprietor of 
The Bee . The time is two weeks after the mo¬ 
mentous election. The good news has been 


224 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN. 


given out that Elijah is surely and rapidly re¬ 
covering. 

There is present, besides Crawford and Crane, 
the new Mayor Jarvis, attended by ten of the lead¬ 
ing men of Danford — clergymen, merchants, col¬ 
lege professors. Mr. Crawford is astonished and 
confused. He stammers an incoherent greeting. 
Mr. Crane, however, is in the secret, and welcomes 
them cordially. The new mayor is the spokes¬ 
man. 

“Mr. Crawford,” he begins abruptly, “you got 
an idea at the last election how strong is the re¬ 
form sentiment in Danford. We propose to see 
to it that it shall increase rather than diminish. 
Now, much of this gain for the public welfare has 
come through The Citizen , that paper which was 
so traitorously sold out to you in the crisis of the 
campaign. We all recognize the importance of 
newspapers, their vast influence for good or evil; 
and our purpose here this morning is to set on 
foot negotiations for the purchase of The Bee.” 

Here Mr. Crawford’s brow darkens ominously, 
but Mayor Jarvis goes serenely on. 

“ Of course we are not sure that you will part 
with the property, but we are prepared to make 
you a reasonable offer, and to show you that it will 
be much to your interest to sell out. We have 
formed a publication company, in which the solid 
business men of this place are all interested. If 


THE END—ONLY THE BEGINNING. 225 

you will sell to us, we shall simply bury The Bee 
and resurrect The Citizen. If you refuse to sell, 
The Citizen will be re-established anyway. With 
all the advertising patronage of the town turning 
elsewhere, together with the leading citizens, I 
think you would not find The Bee a paying piece 
of property.” 

This frank and bold statement puts matters in a 
very different light. Mr. Crawford becomes more 
cordial at once. 

“ Gentlemen,” he replies, “ I am sorry I have n’t 
chairs for you all. Sam,” — he turns to P. T.’s old 
foe, the office boy, — “ Sam, go bring in some more 
chairs. Gentlemen, I am a man of business, and 
when a point is made, I see it. I shouldn’t won¬ 
der if you were too many for me. Anyway, I am 
willing to talk the matter over. Only, gentlemen, 
you must give me my price, you must give me my 
price.” 

The conference is protracted. It is followed 
by a visit, en masse , to the office of The Bee , to in¬ 
spect the stock. Bill Downs, as they enter, sheep¬ 
ishly takes his feet from his desk, sets his chair on 
its four legs, and improves the first opportunity to 
slip away. After much bickering the bargain is 
concluded, with the exception of the legal formali¬ 
ties, and The Danford Citizen is on its feet once 
more, never again to be overthrown. 

“ And of course, gentlemen,” remarks Mr. Craw- 


226 


ELIJAH TONE , CITIZEN 


ford in parting, “ there ’s no need to ask you who 
your editor is to be.” 

“ No, indeed,” replies Mayor Jarvis ; “ why, who 
could it be but that manly young man, Elijah 
Tone, citizen ? ” 


THE END. 








. 







































































































































Ha 




W I j f 1 1 Jf i*^' * i ' ‘.’ • » • *# t,i ’.! 1 *. * ' * • * •••»•-* . ... * • * 4 *1 • *».’ > *« • 

; 

«:'..*<«••*«**♦,••• s.fit/i .: :::* • •' -..'.Hit 














